


Tastes Like Magic

by thesockmonster



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Red String of Fate, Untagged Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6540502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesockmonster/pseuds/thesockmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Minseok wants is his red thread.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes Like Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely lattelotus.

There’s a little magic in everything.

At least that’s what Minseok likes to think. Nothing else can explain Lu Han’s popularity or Yifan’s confidence despite the atrocity he calls a wardrobe. The two of them are like a persistent fungus that Minseok picked up in high school and hasn’t been able to shake since. It’s been over a decade since the three of them exchanged wary once-overs before deciding it would be best to band together for the sake of making it through unscathed. And Minseok’s still quite fond of them. Usually.

There’s also a little magic in drinking enough water to avoid a hangover the following morning. So Minseok takes several long pulls from his bottle of water while Yifan and Lu Han down another round of shots that Minseok had politely declined. They’ll both be suffering in the morning because they never listen to him despite reliving this scenario a hundred times. They’ll hold a pity party for themselves in Minseok’s living room, eating all the greasy food in his apartment and grumbling that Minseok must have some superpower because they’re stubborn idiots.

As per tradition whenever Lu Han is in town - since his job takes him away so often - the three of them are tucked in the corner booth of a small, homey bar, drinking as they vent out their woes and frustrations. Having Lu Han around always spices things up.

“I don’t understand what he wants from me,” Lu Han whines, finger poking at the empty shot glasses Yifan is stacking in a pyramid.

Yifan smacks Lu Han’s hand away before he can tip it all over. “The last of your sanity,” Yifan unhelpfully supplies. “Or maybe your dick game just isn’t as strong as you think.”

Lu Han gasps and purposely knocks over Yifan’s precious pyramid. The shot glasses clatter to the table and Minseok snickers as his two best friends get into it again. Lu Han’s romantic woes are a never ending source of amusement for Yifan who has successfully maintained a stable relationship after finding his soulmate right out of high school. 

Lu Han hasn’t been so fortunate. His soulmate is someone whose heart he’d broken previously - they’d had a fling while Lu Han was out on location for a photoshoot and Lu Han isn’t known for his tact when cutting things off. Ever since they’d reunited, the magical red strings around their pinky fingers leading them to each other, Jongdae has made it his mission to make Lu Han _earn_ his love.

A year and a half later and Lu Han is still working at it while Yifan revels in Lu Han’s perpetual misery. Minseok doesn’t necessarily celebrate his friend’s pain, but he’s fully aware that after the string of broken hearts Lu Han has left behind him, he kinda deserves it. Minseok has no pity for Lu Han. He also happens to _like_ Jongdae; he’s a nice guy and he’s good for Lu Han.

Their waitress comes over to see Lu Han caught in a headlock, and Minseok sheepishly helps her to pick up the glasses and put them on her tray while the other two fight it out. They frequent the place enough that it’s mostly overlooked, plus Minseok makes sure Lu Han tips her well before they take their leave. It’s well past midnight and Minseok’s apartment isn’t too far away - another perk of the bar’s location.

He listens to Lu Han complaining about how much he wishes Jongdae would just realize they were meant for each other and Yifan is patting him on the back, solemnly nodding because once Yifan gets enough alcohol in his system, he turns from loudmouth to sap. Yifan gives Lu Han advice on how to have Jongdae eating out of the palm of his hand - advice that Minseok knows won’t work - and Lu Han thanks him profusely, stopping mid-stride to pull Yifan down for a hug that nearly tips them both over.

Despite Lu Han’s suffering and complaining, Minseok can’t help but fight down a twinge of jealousy. At least Lu Han _has_ his thread. Things may not be perfect, but they never are. Lu Han has someone who is meant for him and Minseok is left alone because there’s no red around his finger. Minseok’s dated some. He's had a few steady significant others over the years, but he’s twenty-six years old now and the wanderlust is gone, leaving behind this burning desire to settle down.

He knows there are people out there who never get their thread and as time goes by, Minseok is afraid that he might have to count himself as one of their number. He knows that it’s possible to find love without a magical tie that binds two people together, but he’s always dreamed of one day waking up to find a thread on his finger, knowing that his future holds a companion for him. Lu Han may be fighting for his soulmate, but Minseok knows Jongdae loves Lu Han, and they do make it work in their own odd way. Lu Han just wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t have something to complain about.

Minseok wants that. He craves that reassurance that comes from the thread. It’s an entirely selfish craving, so Minseok keeps it close to his chest. He never mentions it even to his best friends; he wants them to never hesitate to talk about the ups and downs in their relationships and never have to worry that they’re upsetting him. That’s not what Minseok wants at all. He just wants to belong.

Lu Han trips on Yifan’s feet and Minseok saves them both from barreling into the door of his apartment. It’s already dinged up from previous evenings such as this and he’d like for it to stay intact a while longer. They all pour inside and into the warmth. Minseok’s cheeks prickle from the temperature change and he sighs when he sees the shoes discarded halfway across his living room. Lu Han and Yifan are already on the couch, fighting over the quilted blanket Minseok keeps draped over the back. Some things never change.

He lets them do what they want, closing the door to his bedroom and locking it for good measure. Otherwise, he’s liable to find Yifan curled around him, nuzzling him because in his half-drunk, half-asleep state, he’s mistaken Minseok for his husband yet again. Minseok sheds his clothes on the way to the bathroom, leaning on the counter to take a good look at himself.

He may not be drunk, but he is well on the way and his head is still fuzzy, emotions floating to the surface. His reflection stares back at him with soulless eyes, pools of brown swallowed in black. The glint of metal in his nipple draws his attention. Minseok tilts his head, eyes dragging down to the ink that decorates his skin. The trunk of a tree begins on his right arm, weaving and curling upward around his skin. The branches and leaves begin above his elbow, the design decorating all the way up his shoulder. Some of the tattoo reaches across his chest, creeping toward his collarbone. Scattered along the branches are symbols, tiny reminders of the people who are the most important in Minseok’s life.

Minseok calls it his _tree of life_ and it holds the permanent record of the people who have impacted and inspired him the most. Minseok’s other arm, his left one, is blank. That one he’s saving for when meets his thread. If he _has_ a soulmate. It sits heavy in his chest and he sighs at himself, wondering if he should forget about the whole thing entirely and try to find someone on his own. Or be happy alone.

Cold water runs from the tap and Minseok cups his hands to catch it before splashing it on his face. He needs to get a grip on himself and clear his head. He only gets this way when his defenses are down, which isn’t often. With a flick of his fingers, he sends droplets of water scattering over his reflection.

Minseok brushes his teeth and picks up his discarded clothing on the way back into his bedroom. He deposits them in the hamper and slides into bed, burying his face in his pillow. Tomorrow will be a better day.

 

Minseok owns a tattoo parlor in the middle of the city. It’s a prime location for foot traffic, and easy to find. Minseok opens the door almost every morning, a cup of coffee in his hand - his second of the day - and a cheerful sigh as he takes in the business that’s all his. He started this parlor on his own with a dream in his heart and an idea in his head. He’d never imagined it would be as successful as it is, and he’s thankful every single day for it.

Minseok sets his keys on the glass counter, discarding his coat and coffee beside them as he goes on his cursory inspection of the place. Even if he was there when the shop closed the evening before, he always goes through every room to ensure it’s perfect for opening. Usually his employees are exemplary about keeping their areas clean and he seldom has a problem. In the business of using needles to permanently alter people’s bodies, sterilization and cleanliness are top priority.

It’s ten in the morning when Minseok flicks the switch that turns on the neon sign that advertises their permanent special - couple’s red thread ring tattoos, two for one. It’s quite a popular special. Many a couple have flocked in the doors to have their love inked where the world can see it. Minseok thrives on their exuberance, and siphons a bit of that perpetual happiness for himself even if they aren’t there for long. It helps keep him going.

By eleven, there’s a chiming from the bell over the door as Baekhyun walks in, a thick scarf wrapped around his face so all Minseok can see is his eyes and the tufts of his hair sticking up from the breeze that follows him in. It’s not unusual to have a lack of customers in the morning; most people that show up in the morning are only there by appointment.

Baekhyun brings with him a cheerful humming and his fingers drum softly on the countertop after he settles himself in. He has an appointment soon which is the only reason Baekhyun is in so early. Minseok never purposely schedules Baekhyun for mornings; the two piercers Minseok keeps on staff are only evening workers and Baekhyun’s red thread is one of them. It’s just simpler to keep Baekhyun and Taeyeon on the clock at the same time because she’s the only one who can deal with Baekhyun’s craziness without booting him out the nearest window.

At least Minseok won’t be the only one in the shop for a while. It means he can pop out for more coffee if he needs to, or maybe try to meet up with Lu Han before he leaves town again. Minseok doesn’t know how Lu Han can manage life with the demands of his career - from television dramas to commercials to modeling, Lu Han’s dance card is full. It’s no wonder Jongdae’s still making him work for it.

Before Minseok can escape the incessant drumming of Baekhyun’s fingers, Lu Han comes prancing through the door with all the muted enthusiasm of a hungover celebrity trying to keep from being seen. Minseok only knows it’s Lu Han under that thick coat, hat and face mask because of the two large cups of coffee in his hands and the dark circles around his eyes. He slinks up to the counter, gaze darting around before he relaxes, holding out one of the cups for Minseok. Baekhyun lets out an amused snort before disappearing into the back.

“One of these days I’ll convince you to fire that one,” Lu Han grumbles from beneath his mask.

Minseok shakes his head, clucking his tongue. “I don’t trust anyone else’s hands as much as his.”

Lu Han rolls his eyes at that, finally pushing his mask under his chin so he can take a sip of his coffee. “The day you find someone better, I volunteer to take that one out back and put us all out of our misery.”

“Oh come on,” Minseok chides. “He’s not that bad.”

Lu Han obviously still hasn’t forgiven Baekhyun for cupping Jongdae’s ass a few months ago. It was completely innocent and Jongdae had agreed to it, but Lu Han has a possessive streak and Baekhyun has landed himself with a oneway ticket to shitville. Being a self proclaimed _butt aficionado_ , Baekhyun totally thinks Lu Han’s ire was worth it.

Lu Han doesn't dignify Minseok with an answer. It's adorable when Lu Han gets all grumpy, but Minseok doesn't tell him that. Not to his face. It's safer, and more amusing, to text him about it later.

"How long till your train?" Minseok asks, wrapping his hands around his coffee cup. It warms his chilled fingers.

"Couple hours." Lu Han stands up straight, letting out a satisfied sigh when his spine pops. "Your couch is going to kill my back one of these days."

"My couch?" Minseok queries with a grin. "Or Yifan?" When Minseok had gotten up this morning, Lu Han had been face down on top of Yifan, snoring into a puddle of drool soaked into Yifan's awful sweater. Minseok had snapped a picture of it on his phone to keep for sentimental value. And maybe future blackmail purposes.

"A combination of the two," Lu Han answers, his nose scrunched. "I still smell like Yifan. I don't know what cologne he wears, but it burns my nose."

"Going home smelling like another man," Minseok teases. "What will Jongdae think?"

"That he should be fortunate to have me?" Lu Han tries.

Minseok sighs at his best friend and takes a swallow of his coffee. It's still a little too hot to drink, but he needs the caffeine. Lu Han will never learn. The only thing Minseok can do is try to keep both of Lu Han's feet on the ground. His ego needs a brick tied to the bottom of it.

Lu Han leaves when Baekhyun's appointment shows up, scurrying out of the parlor with his mask pulled up and coat zipped to his chin. Baekhyun snickers, waving obnoxiously until Lu Han is out of sight. Minseok gets a text less than a minute later, demanding that he lower Baekhyun head first into a vat of boiling oil.

It's going to be a long day.

 

Minseok's apartment is mostly as he left it when he gets home. It's well after sundown, but it's not uncommon for him to stay at the shop from opening until closing. There's a pleasant looseness in his fingers from the few customers he'd had earlier and he washes his hands again out of habit.

The blanket on his couch is back in place. Minseok walks over and pushes his nose to it; it smells like fabric softener. Yifan must have tossed it in the wash after he woke up. Minseok has that man trained. It's a shame it's wasted.

It's a simple life that Minseok leads despite his choice of career. He's surrounded by colorful people, but when it's just him, everything is more subdued. Minseok makes a small meal for one, leaning on the bar that separates his living room and kitchen. He eats, half paying attention to the drama playing on television. He almost expects Lu Han's face to pop up in everything he watches now.

When his dinner is finished, he washes the dishes, dries them and puts them away, wiping a dish towel around the counter to pick up water that had splashed up from the sink. It's easy to keep a clean home when it's just him and he's gone for most of the day. The walls are mostly blank, glaring gaps between the few pictures he has of his friends mounted in expensive frames.

There's a large one hanging in the living room, over his couch, of a group of them together at Yifan's wedding. Yifan is wearing the dopiest grin as he stares at Yixing. Lu Han has a garter around his head and Minseok is on Lu Han's lap, an open smile on his face. Back then he'd been so full of hope, so excited for his future.

It's hard to believe it's been six years already. So much has changed - mostly hair colors - and still so much is the same. Minseok is still waiting. Yifan and Yixing have built a life together and around each other. Lu Han has his stardom and Jongdae, and even if he's struggling to make the two work together, Luhan still _has_ them.

Minseok has his career. He has a solid circle of friends that he loves, but it's not the same. Maybe, he thinks, it really is time to start dating again. Seriously. If fate won't come to him, then he'll make his own.

 

Minseok doesn't want to leave the bubble of warmth he's created beneath his comforters, cringing at the cool air that fills the rest of his apartment. There's no sense in keeping the heat running all night when it's just him. It doesn't keep him from dreading winter mornings though. It's the one time of day he's allowed to linger, hovering between awake and asleep as dreams dance just out of his reach.

The carpet is cool between his toes and a shiver runs up his legs when he sits. A comforter is wrapped around his shoulders to keep most of the chill at bay. He lolls his head until his neck pops, groaning and shuffling because he doesn't want to get up. Sleep clings to him still, wanting to draw him down onto the welcoming mattress again.

Minseok gives his bed one last loving look before standing, dragging the comforter with him as he waddles toward the bathroom. He takes a look at himself in the mirror; his dark hair is sticking up in several directions and the creases from his pillowcase are imprinted on his left cheek. Minseok blinks sleepily, toes curling on tile as he leans against the bathroom sink.

He's on autopilot as he wets his toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles. There's foam around his mouth as he brushes and he stares down at the sink, watching as trickling water circles the drain, taking toothpaste foam with it. Minseok spits when he's finished, absentmindedly glancing up to the mirror when a shock of red grabs his attention.

Minseok stares down at the sink, confused because he's sure there was red there a moment ago. His tongue smooths over his gums, tasting for any blood, but there isn't any. Curious, he raises his hands to his mouth to check, and that's when he sees it.

Minseok's heart stops.

Looped in a neat bow around his left pinky finger is a red string. It's thin, shimmering in the light. It leads out of the bathroom, into his bedroom, and Minseok thinks for a moment that one good tug could make it snap. He stares at it, convinced that he’s still sleeping even as the cold prickles at his skin now that the comforter’s fallen from his shoulders. Minseok swallows down the taste of spearmint and sucks in a deep breath after, letting it out slowly. He closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight. When he opens them again, he expects the thread to be gone, merely a figment of his imagination.

It sits there still when he raises his hand. He can’t _feel_ it and there’s nothing else different about him other than that tiny bow of red. Minseok stumbles back until he sits on his toilet seat, hand still in the air and his eyes glued to it. It’s really there.

_It’s really there_.

Tears well in Minseok’s eyes and he doesn’t try to stop them as they cascade down his cheeks. His chest feels so full that it might burst, his head swimming with all the possibilities. His first instinct is to scramble to his phone, snapping a picture of his thread and immediately sending it to Lu Han.

Minseok is sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes still glued to the pretty little bow when his phone rings.

“Can you tell me why I’m staring at a picture of your hand at ass fuck early in the morning?” Lu Han grumbles.

It’s only then that Minseok remembers that no one other than his soulmate would be able to see the red. _And_ it doesn’t show up in pictures at all. He feels a little dumb, but his mind is still trying to catch up with reality. “I see red,” Minseok breathes into the receiver.

There’s silence on the other end and Minseok thinks that maybe Lu Han has fallen back asleep. “I swear to every fucking thing, Minseok, that this had better not be a joke.”

“Why would I joke about _this_?” Minseok practically squeaks. He’s so full of nervous energy now that it’s beginning to sink in. It’s like he wants to explode into a thousand pieces and the only thing keeping him together is one tiny red thread.

“Okay,” Lu Han says. “Okay, hold on for a minute.”

Minseok nods dumbly, wiggling his finger and watching the way the thread shimmers in the sunlight spilling through his bedroom window. He trails his eyes down the length of the thread until it disappears underneath his bedroom door. He’s struck with the urge to follow it and it’s only a noise on the other end of the phone that snaps him out of it.

“Minseok?” comes Jongdae’s scratchy voice. “Why is Lu Han hyperventilating in the shower?”

Minseok sighs. Leave it to Lu Han to lose his shit over _Minseok’s_ life changing moment. “I have my red,” Minseok tells him. It’s still surreal, like if he moves his hand the wrong way, the thread will disappear. He can’t take his eyes off it.

“It’s about fucking time,” Jongdae announces. “I look forward to Lu Han having a good example of _how to woo someone_.” Jongdae’s yelling which means he wants to make sure Lu Han can hear him.

“I have to meet them first,” Minseok laughs. But then it chokes off because _fuck_ , there’s an actual person with a red bow around their finger too - a person who’s meant just for him.

“Don’t forget to register,” Jongdae comments. “I hear the success rate is getting pretty high. It’s worth a shot.” There’s a loud bang in the background on Jongdae’s end and Minseok hears him let out a groan of frustration. “I have to go. I think Lu Han’s gone and injured himself. Good luck.”

Jongdae hangs up and Minseok’s phone is dropped carelessly on his bed. He doesn’t touch it again until minutes later when Jongdae’s words finally do a lap inside his skull and ring loud enough for him to hear. Minseok’s not much for games or social media apps on his phone and Lu Han constantly tells him he’s no fun when he steals Minseok’s phone to play, but the _REDFindr_ app is one that he’ll make an exception for. It came out a few years ago as a way for people to find their soulmate. All he has to do is fill out his name, birthdate and what day he first saw his red. After he’s in the system, it will let him see a list of registered users who saw red on the same day. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth it.

He stares at the screen for the longest time after, anticipation lacing through his every breath. He knows it will take hours, possibly even until tomorrow before he gets any results. How is he supposed to get through the rest of his day like this?

Minseok catches a glimpse of the time and gasps, skittering back toward the bathroom. He’s going to be _so late_.

 

“I thought for sure you were dead,” Baekhyun says the moment Minseok makes it to the shop. “I was going to give it another hour before calling the police.”

“Very funny,” Minseok deadpans.

Yifan walks out from the back, seemingly unfazed by Minseok’s appearance even if Baekhyun has taken to trying to pat down the strands of Minseok’s crazy hair.

“You’ve never been late a day in your life,” Baekhyun chides. “I don’t even need to have known you your entire life to know that. What’s got your panties so twisted this morning?” Baekhyun grabs Minseok’s face, staring into his eyes. “You’re not hungover, are you?”

“Minseok doesn’t get hangovers,” Yifan answers for him. There’s a mug of steaming tea in Yifan’s hand and he’s peering curiously at Minseok, head tilted. “But apparently he forgets appointments.”

It’s a Saturday. Minseok knows that Yifan has absolutely nothing else planned for the rest of his day, not when he’s only here for a few touch ups on the back piece Minseok has spent the past year creating. Besides, Yifan is early.

“I had a rough start this morning,” Minseok tells them both. “I can’t be perfect all the time.”

Yifan eyes Minseok critically. “That’s not it,” he boldly states. “Something’s changed.”

Baekhyun, who still has Minseok’s cheeks cupped in his hands, tilts Minseok’s face down to stare at him. “Did you get laid? Don’t you dare hold out on me.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Minseok sing-songs, earning a scowl from his employee.

Yifan still isn’t buying it. “You don’t have that _finally got some_ glow.”

Minseok tears his head away from Baekhyun’s grasp to stare at his friend. “Should I be worried that you know what my after sex _glow_ looks like?”

“You know what _mine_ looks like,” Yifan offers as explanation. It doesn’t make Minseok feel any better even if it’s true. If friendships had levels, the one between Minseok, Lu Han and Yifan has probably reached the top tier of creepiness. “We can talk about it while you finish my back.”

Yifan is already walking through the curtain that keeps the back rooms hidden. Minseok darts around Baekhyun to follow, ordering him to stay up front for any walk-in customers. When Minseok gets to his work station, everything is exactly as he’d left it the day before. For some reason, he’d expected it to be different. Not rearranged or reorganized, but at least _something_ would have shifted. He glances down at his hand for only a second before slipping off his coat and hanging it on the hook in the far corner.

“Lu Han didn’t have another episode of Celebrity Life Crisis, did he?” Yifan questions. He’s already tugging off his horrid bright yellow and orange striped sweater. The shirt underneath comes off too, and the two are gently folded in half and put on an empty chair. “Last time, he kept me up until four in the morning. I got a stress pimple between my eyes from talking him out of selling everything he owned and moving to New Zealand. He wanted to live in one of the abandoned hobbit holes from the movie set.”

Minseok remembers that. He’d been the one to pick Lu Han up from the airport right after Yifan had hung up on him. “This isn’t Lu Han related,” Minseok explains. He trails his eyes over the looping oriental dragon that crawls up Yifan’s spine. Minseok’s been working on it for so long now that he’s almost going to miss it. It’s done in a watercolor style, almost as if it’s melting into his skin. Minseok is fiercely proud of it.

“I feel like you’re toying with me on purpose,” Yifan grumbles as he takes a seat, sitting up straight for Minseok to inspect his tattoo. It’s healed up from their last session quite nicely, and there aren’t many places that need touching up.

“I would never toy with you,” Minseok answers, his attention on his work and not on the conversation. He tunes out Yifan’s complaining, fully focused on the list he’s making in his head of spots he needs to hit. It isn’t until he’s snapping on his gloves that he’s drawn back to the red wrapped so casually around his finger. His pause draws Yifan’s attention.

“You fucker,” Yifan says, and Minseok’s head whips up to stare at him. “You got your red and didn’t tell me!”

Minseok takes a moment to calm his racing emotions. “Only because I don’t need you climbing into a shower to hyperventilate like Lu Han did when I told him. I’d like to finish this tattoo before you get all emotional on my account.”

Yifan is unsurprised by Lu Han’s reaction. “You’re growing up so fast,” Yifan teases. “We’re all tied now.”

“Tied, yes, but I don’t know _who_ my thread is yet.”

“Oh don’t worry about that. It took me less than a day to find Yixing.”

Minseok lets out a snort as he pulls out the ink colors he needs. Yifan didn’t so much find Yixing as nearly hit him with his car. Yixing had punched him in the face before they both noticed the red tying them together. “Relax,” Minseok tells Yifan out of habit. “This shouldn’t take long.”

 

It’s been a week since the thin line of red looped around his finger appeared and Minseok has yet to discover who is on the other end. The _REDFindr_ app wasn’t much help. All but one of the people who saw red the same day were in different countries, scattered all over the world. The only one local was a woman whom he’d met at the mall. He’d been so excited, only for it to shatter into disappointment when they saw each other. She wasn’t his thread.

Lu Han keeps telling him to hop a flight and be adventurous. Jongdae is kind enough to knock sense into Lu Han so Minseok doesn’t have to find wherever Lu Han is filming to do it himself. It’s Yifan who comes up with a less drastic, less crazy idea to help Minseok narrow things down. He suggests driving in a circle - or as close as he can - around the city because well over half of all soulmates are already in the same area. Yifan even volunteers to drive so Minseok can keep track of his thread and which direction it’s coming from.

It certainly beats sitting around and moping, so Minseok agrees. He feels a little silly, staring out the window at his thread until it disappears in the distance. It’s also very boring. Yifan plays nothing but bass heavy rap music and Minseok’s head is pounding. He knocks it against the window even as Yifan pulls off the highway and into a rest stop. They’re outside the city limits and Minseok yawns and stretches when he steps out of the car.

“Well?” Yifan asks.

Minseok holds his hand up in the air, eyes following the trail of red as it leads back toward the city. For the first time since they started this mildly insane method of elimination, Minseok’s heart dares to hope. They’ve been in an almost complete circle around the city and the thread _still_ leads back to it. It’s not enough for him to get excited, but he can’t help it. It means whoever he’s destined for is nearby after all. He or she just hasn’t registered on the app.

“I’m calling the day a success,” Yifan declares. “Now let’s go get food. Your treat. I’m starving.”

Minseok’s too pleased with the results of Yifan’s idea to argue with him.

 

***

 

It’s a monochrome, overcast morning. A figure drowning in a too large chocolate brown sweater crawls out of bed, nearly tipping onto the floor because his toes want to recoil from the chill temperature of the wood. He’d give anything for carpet right now, groaning as he tip-toes to his bathroom only a few steps away. There’s not a lot of space in his apartment, but it’s all he needs. And, it’s also all he can afford.

The bathroom light flickers to life, humming in a way that worries him. This place is falling down around him, but filing a work order with the manager only leads to more of a fight than it’s worth. The mirror over the sink is rusting around the edges from the metal frame and Jongin peers at himself through splatters of toothpaste he hasn’t bothered to wash off yet. His hair - currently a subdued bleach blond - looks like he tossed and turned all night. It’s more fit for a rat’s nest. Jongin only wrinkles his nose before blindly grabbing for his toothpaste.

As Jongin brushes his teeth, his eyes linger on the swaying of his red thread. He’s starting to get used to it now, his mind filtering it out of his sight the way the brain does for the nose. It’s automatic and he likes when he doesn’t have to think about it. The mere presence of his thread makes him uneasy. He knows most people get one, but he wasn’t ready. It’s been nearly a month now since it appeared and he’s still not ready.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know _when_ he’ll be ready.

Jongin wants to figure himself out before diving into a relationship with someone fate has decided is his perfect match. He’s coming up on twenty-two years old and still hasn’t figured out what he wants out of life. When he was younger, he wanted to be a dancer. Too many injuries took him out of contention for that by the time he was sixteen. His second attempt at finding himself was when he decided to give college a try. He’d been miserable and dropped out after the first year.

Jongin bundles up before leaving his apartment, the door rattling in the frame when he pulls it closed tighter, holding it in place so he can force the deadbolt to lock. The place is shit, but for a single guy working retail, it’s the best he can hope for. Jongin doesn’t dislike his job. It just doesn’t pay enough to sustain a better lifestyle.

He walks out into the cold air, shivering in his coat as he makes his way further into the city. It’s seven blocks from his building to the strip of shops where he works, but he always stops off at one particular coffee shop along the way. It’s still a little too early for the morning crowd and while Jongin laments being awake, he prefers the quiet din over rushing people. He’s hit with a warm puff of air as he opens the door, the bell chiming over his head and the cute girl behind the register giving him a familiar smile in greeting.

Jongin visits often enough that he doesn’t have to tell them his order anymore. He enjoys the scent of the place, letting the thick aroma of coffee fill his nose and linger on his clothing as he waits. He doesn’t drink coffee. The smell is enough for him; he’s never acquired a taste for the actual drink. But that doesn’t stop his best friend of forever, Kyungsoo, from partaking in the caffeine riddled concoctions. Kyungsoo meets Jongin inside the shop with pink cheeks from the cold and windblown hair that sticks up.

Jongin finds himself patting down the deep red strands, running his palms over the shaved hair beneath just because he likes the way it feels. Kyungsoo grins at him while handing his debit card to the cashier. Another benefit of meeting Kyungsoo in the morning is that he takes care of both their orders. It’s a best friend perk.

They find a table for two away from a window to avoid the cold, and Jongin clutches his tea to his chest, letting the warmth bleed into his fingers. He also has a blueberry muffin in a small paper bag that he’ll save for later.

“Stay up late again?” Kyungsoo asks, an eyebrow raised as his eyes stay glued to Jongin’s hair.

Jongin runs his fingers uselessly through the blond strands again. “Not _that_ late,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his tea.

Kyungsoo laughs. “You’re not going to be able to keep up with all nighters soon,” he teases. “You’re getting old.”

Jongin knocks the side of his foot against Kyungsoo’s under the table. “Not as old as you at least.”

Kyungsoo pierces Jongin with a glare that would have anyone else bracing themselves for the fallout. Jongin is too accustomed to Kyungsoo so all he does is grin at his friend. It’s nice that Jongin gets to have this - it's nice that Kyungsoo happens to be married to a man who makes enough money that Kyungsoo could stop working entirely if he wanted. It means that Jongin gets to see more of his best friend; it also means that Jongin finds it hard to complain about Joonmyun even if he seems the starched shirt, socks with sandals type.

The pair of them stick around for another twenty minutes, then Kyungsoo walks with Jongin the rest of the way to where he works. They part ways at the door, Kyungsoo giving Jongin a wave as he rushes back to his car in the cold weather. Jongin sniffles, paper bag clutched to his chest as he fumbles with the keys to find the right one.

He steps inside, shutting and locking the door behind him before taking a moment to let the heat inside seep into his skin. The comic shop Jongin works in is all vibrant colors and an assortment of merchandise that doesn’t fit in anywhere else. It’s a hodge podge of racks filled with comics, action figures, memorabilia, jewelry, keychains, model kits, posters, and anything else they can market with a popular comic-related stamp. Jongin loves it all.

He takes a cursory survey of the store, making sure everything is in order before storing his stuff in the back. Most of the morning is going to be spent with Jongin sitting behind the register, his sketchpad on his lap and the silence to keep him company. The only time it’s ever bustling in the mornings is on release day or a weekend when there’s a card tournament scheduled. Today is neither.

Midway through the day, with only a few customers having come in to pick up their subscriptions, Jongin finds himself filing back issues from the previous weeks into the proper boxes. He’s knee-deep in bagged and boarded comics when his relief shows up. Sehun is pushing the cotton candy pink strands of his hair out of his eyes, his face scrunching with a grin when he spots Jongin.

Sehun is a good kid, a good person to work with. He and Jongin get along great and Jongin enjoys his company. They’ve even been known to hang out outside of work which, according to Kyungsoo, is a Big Deal for Jongin. That’s only because Jongin has a hard time opening up to people. But it’s easy with Sehun because they’re both total fans of comics and all related mediums. Sehun will never curl his lip when Jongin suggests an all weekend Lord of the Rings Extended Edition marathon, unlike _certain_ best friends.

Jongin gets to a stopping point, exchanging pleasantries with Sehun while getting ready to leave. If he gets out the door soon enough, he might even get home before dark. The days just aren’t long enough in the winter and the temperatures always feel like they’ve dropped exponentially after the sun goes down. Jongin hates getting caught in it.

The only thing that gives Jongin pause is the tattoo parlor three doors down that he passes every single day. It’s not the first time he’s noticed how the red thread around his finger seems to lead inside it. His stomach twists uncomfortably and Jongin tries not to stare through the large glass windows, but he can’t help himself. There’s someone sitting inside behind a display counter; Jongin can’t make out their face, but he knows he’s been spotted when their arm raises and waves at him.

He scurries along, tucking his coat further around himself as he heads home.

 

Jongin loves dinner at Kyungsoo’s place. Not only does he have food that isn’t solely cooked just by adding boiling water, but he also has great company too. Admittedly, it took a while for Jongin to warm up to Joonmyun. Jongin had thought that his best friend was going to be taken from him and he’d gotten defensive. Even a little possessive. After Kyungsoo had knocked some sense into him and assured Jongin that he’d never leave him behind, Jongin had agreed to give Joonmyun a chance.

That was years ago, back when Kyungsoo had just gotten together with Joonmyun after they'd found each other. Now, the two are happily married, living in a house that’s tucked in a neighborhood away from the noise of the city. It’s cosy and Jongin likes to take it all in from time to time. Plus, he'll never turn down Kyungsoo’s cooking.

Joonmyun is also amusing in his own way. He’s changed out of his suit and tie that he wears to the office and is now dressed in a sweater that looks like it’s made up of hairballs from a cat who ate too much tinsel. It’s horrid and Jongin can’t quite keep his eyes off it. Kyungsoo seems to have adjusted to it, but Jongin - Jongin stares until Kyungsoo kicks his shin lightly under the table.

It’s a picture of domestic bliss the way Kyungsoo and Joonmyun glance at each other between bites, occasionally finding a reason to touch. Jongin feels like an outsider looking in even if he’s been there all through the progression of their relationship. He wonders, sometimes, what things will be like when he’s finally settled down - his life in order and his thread at his side. Kyungsoo and Joonmyun are perfect for each other, setting a standard that Jongin doesn’t think can be matched.

Still, Jongin likes to glean what he can from them, and finds himself fulfilled with that little bit. He knows that one day he will embark on his own romantic journey. It’s just not meant to be right now. It doesn’t bother him usually. Jongin has his priorities just the way he wants them.

Jongin goes home with a full belly, and leftovers for the next night. Kyungsoo walks him to his door, but he doesn’t linger for long, wanting to get back home. He thinks he’s subtle about it, but Jongin still boots him out with a knowing grin. Jongin’s tiny apartment may not be as homey, but it’s still cosy and filled with memories. He takes a leap onto his couch after putting his food away, several stuffed toys scattering to the floor.

Jongin sinks into the cushions. This old couch probably should have been retired ages ago, but he doesn’t have the heart for a send off. Not quite yet. He’s spent too many a night curled up on it when he doesn’t want to crawl to bed, too many days napping in the sunlight that spills over it. There’s a blanket folded up on the windowsill - one that his grandmother made for him as a graduation present that’s made from all his favorite shirts from his high school years. Jongin pulls it over himself, shoes kicked to the floor and coat shed as he tucks himself in. His phone is left on the small table by the couch, the alarm set so he can get up for work on time.

 

Jongin enjoys working afternoons; it means he gets to sleep in and shuffle around, slowly waking up in the mornings instead of having to dive into the cold to snap himself awake. He doesn’t much enjoy the walk home after closing, but he’ll take the little things. There’s a bear shaped toboggan on his head, a cream scarf around his neck, and he zips up his coat as he opens the door. Kyungsoo is on the other side, looking pleasantly warm.

Jongin likes this too. Kyungsoo has his car waiting for Jongin, the heat on and the seat warmed to perfection. It sure beats walking and there’s even hot chocolate in the cup holder. A sigh escapes his chapped lips when Jongin takes a sip. The sugar will help kickstart his body into gear. He’s been up for hours, but none of that time has been spent actively trying to wake up. Jongin doesn’t even try to fiddle with the radio station like he usually does.

Kyungsoo parks a block down to avoid having to parallel park and dodge pedestrians at the same time. It’s not that Kyungsoo _can’t_ do it; it’s more that he’s tempted to hit cars parked over the line and people who don’t look before walking out in front of a moving vehicle. It’s better for everyone if Kyungsoo avoids the situation altogether.

Jongin doesn’t mind the short walk, even if it’s freezing outside. There are several frozen over puddles of water on the sidewalk that he diligently skirts, guiding Kyungsoo around them too. His eyes stay glued to his feet to make sure he doesn’t fall and spill his hot chocolate all over himself. In his periphery, Jongin catches a glimpse of his reflection in the tall windows of the tattoo parlor. He doesn’t mean to stop, doesn’t mean to raise his eyes to peer inside. He does anyway.

Kyungsoo stands beside him, raising his hand to poke Jongin’s cheek with his finger. “Are you finally going to get the logo of your favorite superhero tattooed on your ass?” Kyungsoo asks, only partially joking.

Jongin sighs, only just refraining from rolling his eyes. His reflection doesn’t show the red that’s tied to his finger, but when he glances down, it’s there, leading right inside. There’s something heavy in his chest and he doesn’t know if he likes it or if he wants to run away screaming. Curiosity isn’t a healthy bedfellow and Jongin finally pulls himself away.

There’s movement inside the shop and Jongin scurries along, Kyungsoo nearly slipping on a patch of ice to keep up. “What is _with_ you lately?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Nothing,” Jongin grumbles, refusing to look at Kyungsoo directly as he holds the door to the comic shop open for him. The new release racks are in an organized state of chaos and Sehun looks like he could use some help. Tomorrow is new release day and they need to prep the racks tonight to make things less hectic for the next day.

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo says, “tell Jongin he’s been different lately.”

“You’ve been different lately,” Sehun parrots.

“Traitor,” Jongin whines. “You’re just agreeing with him because he brings you lunch.”

Sehun shrugs. “I won’t bite the hand that feeds me.” Sehun puts down the stack of comics in his arms, balancing them precariously on the corner of a box of back issues. “And he’s right. You’ve been more . . . standoffish than usual.”

“I’m not standoffish!” Jongin counters, turning to Kyungsoo for support. Kyungsoo only gives him one of those annoying _I told you so_ looks. “Fine,” Jongin admits. “I’ve had some things on my mind lately. What’s wrong with that?”

“We never said there was,” Sehun replies.

“But we’re worried,” Kyungsoo adds. 

“Don’t be,” Jongin sighs. “I’m fine. I’m sorting it all out.”

Kyungsoo and Sehun both appear skeptical, and Jongin _knows_ he hasn’t heard the last of it, but they let him be for now. Kyungsoo has Sehun tail him back out to his car while Jongin shrugs out of his coat. It’s going to be a busy afternoon with all the organizing they have to do, which means he’ll be blissfully preoccupied. Maybe then he can stop dwelling on the way his eyes _sometimes_ focus on the swing of the red thread when he moves.

Sehun returns with containers of food, bringing a gust of frigid air with him. Jongin shivers in his sweater, toes curling in his shoes. He’ll be glad when things warm up again. He’s never liked the cold.

It’s several hours later when the first customers of the day walk in. Jongin is behind the register, doodling on the corner of a notebook when he looks up. Sehun is all the way in the back, but he yells a greeting to the pair of men who have just walked in. They’re bundled up for the weather, each one tugging at their scarves around their faces. The taller of the men approaches the register and Jongin sits up, slipping the notebook under the counter and out of sight.

“How may I help you today?” he begins, giving his customer a smile.

“I was wondering,” the man begins, still fighting with the light brown scarf, “if you’d let me have that standee in the front window.”

Jongin furrows his eyebrows, leaning back to glance at the display that’s currently set up. The standee in question is of the popular superhero _Red Flare_ from the upcoming movie that’s about to hit theaters. There’s a lot of hype for it. Jongin only hopes the guy they had play the main character can pull it off. The actor they hired - Lu Han - had looked a little scrawny, but Jongin will hold his judgement until he sees it with his own eyes.

“When you’re finished with the promotions, of course,” the man tacks on. The scarf finally slips off his neck and Jongin is left staring at a face that’s _very_ familiar. “I can sign a few copies of the comic, if you like. They’d probably sell well. I just want the standee for my apartment. I can never have too much of myself around me.”

Jongin blinks.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Do you mind if I look around before I pull out my autographing marker?”

Jongin nods, still trying to catch up when he sees it. There, on Lu Han’s finger, is a red thread. Something in Jongin dislodges and he’s left feeling as though he’s overbalanced and he’s going to tip over onto the floor. The air is trapped in his lungs and his eyes go wide, unable to stop staring at the thread.

“Don’t mind Lu Han.” 

Jongin startles, eyes flickering to the man who had come in with Lu Han, and then back to the red that’s taunting him from down the aisle.

“Oh! Don’t let that scare you either,” the man laughs. “Lu Han wears that silly red thread as a way to tell his fans that they’re all his soulmates.” The man rolls his eyes, but in a way that suggests he’s not as annoyed with it as he sounds.

Jongin lets out a stream of air slowly, leaning back against the shelves behind him. His heart is racing and he thinks he might have been on the verge of passing out. “That’s a relief,” Jongin finally says.

“Yeah,” the guy agrees. “Being tied to that one is a special brand of torture. I’m Jongdae, by the way. And Lu Han is totally serious about the standee. He collects them.”

Jongin is about to let Jongdae know that it would be their pleasure to let Lu Han have the standee, but he’s interrupted by Sehun’s sudden screech from the back.

“Red!” Sehun yells and then Jongin hears something heavy hit the ground.

Jongin and Jongdae both go rushing toward him. Jongin finds Sehun passed out on the floor and Lu Han looks sheepish.

“Maybe I should take this off for now.”

Jongdae slaps Lu Han on the back of the head. “Ya think?”

 

Jongin manages to come to several conclusions in the few hours since Lu Han’s grand entrance through the store. First, Jongdae must have the patience of a saint to put up with a man like Lu Han. Second, Sehun does not take shock well. And third, Jongin’s own emotional reaction to thinking he’d discovered his thread wasn’t as disastrous as he’d thought it would be.

That’s not to say that it wasn’t shocking, but Jongin had expected more panic and less _phew, it’s finally over_. There had only been a few seconds where Jongin truly believed Lu Han was his soulmate, but the _relief_ he felt was eye opening. As much as he’s been fighting against finding his thread, and as much as he’s convinced himself that he wants to be someone worth being tied to _first_ , Jongin’s starting to think that he’s been going about this all wrong.

He ponders his revelations while sitting behind the front counter alone. Sehun is technically still on the clock, but after he’d come to with Lu Han standing over him, looking very apologetic, Lu Han had offered to buy him dinner. Sehun had scrambled to his feet faster than Jongin had ever seen him move, turning his puppy eyes on Jongin for permission. How was Jongin supposed to say no to that?

Jongin’s eyes flicker over to the standee in the window; on the back of it is the word _DIBS_ written in silver marker, with Lu Han’s signature beneath it. There is also a stack of promotional #0 comics featuring the movie poster on the cover that Lu Han had autographed. Jongin had snapped a picture of Lu Han signing them on his phone so he can print it out and post it on the counter as proof for the more skeptical fans.

“Jongin, you’re not going to _believe_ this,” Sehun announces when he comes rushing back into the store. His cheeks are pink from the cold and he’s panting. But he’s too excited to pause because he rushes right at Jongin, shoving his phone in Jongin’s face. “Look!” he exclaims. Jongin is subjected to _dozens_ of pictures of Sehun and Lu Han, posing together and laughing at each other.

“Congratulations?” Jongin offers, laughing at the adoration in Sehun’s face.

“That’s not even the best part!”

Jongin is unprepared for Sehun suddenly yanking his skinny jeans down to his thighs and bending over, showcasing his ass to Jongin and anyone who may walk by. It’s a damn good thing it’s near closing. “Did he bite your ass?” Jongin asks once he sees the white bandage taped onto Sehun’s right butt cheek.

Sehun is already pulling up his jeans - thankfully before he turns around - his eyes glimmering. “Even better. Lu Han signed my ass and I got it tattooed.”

“You do know Lu Han’s not your soulmate, right?”

“Of course I do,” Sehun answers with a roll of his eyes. “Jongdae is.”

“And you got Lu Han’s name _tattooed on your ass_?”

“Yeah,” Sehun says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “He’s famous, he’s hot and I might have a concussion from how hard I hit the floor. We didn’t tell the guy doing the tattoo that though.”

“Was Jongdae around for this?”

“Jongdae told me someone had to do it because he never would,” Sehun snorts. Sehun twists as he shrugs out of his coat, wincing with a hiss. “Fuck, that hurts.”

“No shit,” Jongin laughs. “I’m totally not telling Boss Man what you did on company time,” he jokes.

“I owe you.” Jongin stares at Sehun as he walks to the back to put away his jacket. “Hey!” Jongin calls. “How are you gonna sit?”

“Carefully,” Sehun answers.

He’s got a noticeable limp and Jongin can’t believe Sehun seriously just got Lu Han’s name tattooed on his ass. He can sort of see the appeal seeing that Lu Han’s a celebrity, but a tattoo is permanent. Jongin is trapped in a state of amusement until closing time, still chuckling under his breath as Sehun curses loudly while vacuuming the floor. They have everything set up, and Jongin fills the new release racks as Sehun tidies up the rest of the shop.

Kyungsoo taps on the glass just before they’re finished, waving his gloved hand at them and bouncing because it’s freezing outside. Jongin shuffles over to let him in so he’s not a popsicle by the time they’re done. Sehun gets to regale Kyungsoo with his tale of today’s celebrity run-in and Jongin witnesses firsthand one of the very few moments that Kyungsoo has ever been stunned into silence.

“You let him do that?” Kyungsoo asks Jongin once they’re in Kyungsoo’s car.

“I wasn’t there!” Jongin explains. “He just went and did it all by himself. And with Lu Han. He was starstruck.”

“Friends don’t let friends get celebrity tattoos on their _asses_ ,” Kyungsoo grumbles.

It isn’t until he’s home, toeing off his shoes with Kyungsoo doing the same, that Jongin brings up what’s been bothering him. He can’t look at Kyungsoo when he says it aloud because he’s never said it. He’s thought it plenty of times, even mouthed the words to himself, but he’s never given voice to it.

“So, uh,” he begins, sweeping a hand nervously through his hair. “You asked why I’ve been different lately.”

“I did,” Kyungsoo responds, skirting around Jongin to lay his coat on the back of a chair before sitting on Jongin’s couch.

“It’s because I got my red.”

“Just over a month ago,” Kyungsoo says.

Jongin blinks up at him, surprised.

“Oh come on, Jongin,” Kyungsoo laughs. “I’ve known you your entire life. Of _course_ I’m going to notice you glancing at your finger a dozen times every few minutes.”

“Why didn’t you _say anything_ ,” Jongin whines, tempted to toss a pillow at Kyungsoo’s head. Instead, Jongin folds his legs and sits on the couch, facing Kyungsoo.

“Because I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“I still have reservations.”

“About telling me?”

“About finding whoever is on the other end of this thing.” Jongin rubs his thumb over it, feeling nothing. He never feels anything, but it’s definitely there.

“Why?”

Jongin scrunches his nose, grabbing his large stuffed dog and clutching it to his chest to cuddle. “Because what if I’m not good enough?” Jongin says, finally confiding his fears in his best friend. “I don’t even know what I’m doing with _myself_ ,” he continues. “How am I supposed to be good enough to be half of a perfect relationship?”

“I’m just going to stop you right there,” Kyungsoo says. He scooches closer to Jongin, resting his palms on Jongin’s thighs. “Finding your soulmate isn’t about being _worthy_ of them. If they’re your soulmate, they’re going to accept you for who you are. Besides, I _know_ you and anyone would be lucky to have you at their side. Just because you don’t have a career plan doesn’t make you any less deserving of finding happiness.”

“But how can I be with someone, how can someone _love_ me if I haven’t even figured myself out yet?”

“Jongin, it’s not going to just snap into place. Every relationship takes work. It’s a give and take. You aren’t just learning about them, but you’re also learning more about yourself too.”

“Like you learning you have an ugly sweater fetish?” Jongin suggests with a grin.

Kyungsoo squeezes Jongin’s thighs, smiling. “Only Joonmyun in ugly sweaters.”

“That’s a very specific fetish,” Jongin jests.

“One that you encourage every holiday,” Kyungsoo adds.

“I’m only upset that I can’t find horrid sweaters all year round.”

Kyungsoo’s presence always helps put Jongin’s mind at ease. They can joke and laugh through serious topics and Jongin feels infinitely better after. By the time Jongin is ushering Kyungsoo out the door, he’s already made up his mind.

In the morning, he’s going to meet his soulmate.

 

***

 

Minseok is sitting in the back of the parlor, his feet kicked up on the small table in front of the couch and his phone in his hands. He’s scrolling through the notifications he’s gotten on _REDFindr_ , still holding out hope that his match will pop up. He’s spent a frustrating month on tenterhooks, just waiting for the moment he meets his soulmate, but the end of every day is met with disappointment and an ache in his chest.

He’s ashamed to admit that he’s even been tempted to see one of those psychics who claim they can pinpoint the location of a person’s soulmate. The advertisements say they can read the magic that ties two people together, but the price is a hefty one. Minseok could afford it - with a sizeable chunk out of his savings - but the reviews he’d read had left a bad taste in his mouth.

With a sigh, he sinks lower onto the couch, knees bent and phone propped on his thighs. Up front, he can hear Chanyeol singing along to the radio obnoxiously. Chanyeol is an amazing tattoo artist, and his bright personality pulls people to him, but sometimes Minseok just wants to gag him.

“Cutie is outside again!” Chanyeol bellows down the hallway.

Minseok snorts, amused. He remembers when he’d look forward to the few times a day one particular guy would pass by the shop. Unfortunately for him, Chanyeol had picked up on it and has seen fit to tease Minseok about it every time the guy appears. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. Minseok has his red string and those flights of whimsy when he’d imagined himself darting out after the guy have evaporated.

“He’s coming in!” Chanyeol yells again.

Minseok has half a mind not to believe him. It could be a trick to see if Minseok will come running to the front just to get a glimpse of his handsome stranger. Minseok isn’t going to fall for that trap. But then . . . 

The bell over the shop door tinkles and Minseok finds himself standing, making his way to the front. Just in case.

“Hello,” booms Chanyeol’s voice. “What may we help you with today? A tattoo? Or a piercing perhaps? Time to spice up the love life?”

He’s nearly there and he needs to hurry so he can shut Chanyeol the fuck up. Minseok is going to slug Chanyeol right in the nose later. 

“Actually,” comes an unfamiliar voice, “I think my thread is here.”

Minseok nearly trips over his own feet, stumbling through the curtain and into view. He catches himself on the doorframe, his pulse racing and eyes dragging over the face of none other than the infuriatingly hot guy he used to think about hitting on. And then his gaze lands on where the man has placed his hands on the glass counter. Minseok’s heart nearly stops when he sees the red tied around the man’s finger just as plainly as the one on his own.

The man gasps and Minseok sees that he’s staring at Minseok’s thread too. They’re _soulmates_.

“Chanyeol,” Minseok begins, licking over his suddenly dry lips, “I’m taking the rest of the day.”

An awkwardly silent ten minutes later finds Minseok sitting across from his soulmate in the nearest coffee shop. They both figured it would be the best place to sit for an initial chat since it’s late enough in the morning that it should be relatively empty. It’s not a wrong assumption.

“Minseok,” Jongin mutters, his hands cupping a mug of hot chocolate.

“Jongin,” Minseok responds, nails drumming along the side of his cappuccino.

Names is as far as they’ve gotten - names and the fact that Jongin doesn’t like coffee. Their coats are resting on the backs of their chairs and Jongin’s scarf is balled up in his lap, peeking just high enough for Minseok to see it. Minseok doesn’t know where to look. There’s so much he wants to know and learn, but where are they supposed to start?

Jongin seems just as nervous, his teeth worrying his very enticing lower lip as his eyes rest on where the red thread is tied around Minseok’s finger. It gives Minseok the chance to inspect him further. All he's ever seen of Jongin is flashes as he’d walked past the parlor nearly every day. Minseok used to wonder where it was that he went, but that question doesn't seem so important anymore.

Jongin is more handsome than Minseok had even imagined. His hair is blond now, which is new, and Minseok likes it. He also likes Jongin's eyes and the slope of his nose. He likes Jongin's mouth - he _really_ likes Jongin's mouth - and the sharpness of his jawline. Minseok raises his drink to his lips, taking a swallow of the hot cappuccino before he can blurt out something stupid.

Jongin clears his throat and sits higher in his seat. Minseok is drawn in by the action, setting his mug on the table between them.

"I suppose I should start with why I took so long to see you," Jongin begins.

"You knew I was your thread before you came in today?" Minseok asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. He's certain that he's never once noticed Jongin pausing long enough to see him inside the shop.

"Not you specifically," Jongin clarifies. "But I've known for a while that my thread led into that particular shop. And I didn't follow it."

"Why?"

Jongin lets out a deep breath, his hands now off the table and probably bunched in the scarf in his lap. Minseok wishes he could make him more comfortable, but this is new territory for him too. Just knowing that they're meant to be together doesn't make everything instantly click.

"I wasn't ready. I mean, I _thought_ I wasn't ready. You see, I had this idea that if I hadn't figured out my own life and what I wanted to do with it, then I would be no good at being half of something like this."

Jongin's speech was clearly thought out and rehearsed, and Minseok listens to every word. He taps on the side of his mug after, taking in Jongin's nervous posture and his unwillingness to even look at Minseok now.

"What changed your mind?"

Jongin finally looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "An idiot wearing an actual red thread on his finger scared some sense into me," he finally answers with a laugh.

There's something about that image that rings a bell with Minseok, but he pushes it aside in lieu of more important matters. "Well I'm glad you decided to find me. I was about to lose a small fortune on one of those psychics to try and track you down. That would have been embarrassing."

"You think those really work?" Jongin laughs.

"Nope."

Jongin laughs louder and Minseok can see how easily he could fall for that laugh. Jongin's eyes wrinkle and his smile is breathtaking. Minseok is more than just a little mesmerized. It does a little to relax him and Minseok finally fully leans back in his chair, feet shifting apart under the table. Jongin takes a swallow of his drink when he calms, setting his mug down carefully.

“I still have my reservations,” Jongin quietly admits. “And because of that, I want to take things slow.” Jongin is staring at the table again instead of at Minseok. “I’ve seen people move in together the day after finding their thread and that’s - that’s not me. I want something that’s more than just a bit of magic tying us together.”

“I think slow is good,” Minseok agrees, nodding his head at Jongin. “I’d very much like to get to know you.” The _I’ve waited too long for this to fuck it up_ remains unsaid. He doesn’t want to scare Jongin off now that he’s finally here.

“Me too,” Jongin says with a smile. He’s so much more amazing than Minseok could have hoped for.

They part ways with exchanged phone numbers and plans to meet again the following evening. Minseok watches as Jongin walks off, all bundled in his coat and scarf. The moment Jongin rounds the corner, Minseok jumps as high as he can, his arms in the air as he lets out a whoop of excitement.

There’s a grin that blossoms on his face and it won’t go away. He thinks about going back to work, but he’d already said he was taking the rest of the day off, so he goes home instead. His apartment seems more welcoming now and Minseok is still smiling when he rushes at his bed and flings himself on it. He muffles a happy scream into his pillow before rolling onto his back.

Today is the first day of the rest of his life. And he won’t be alone. He's absolutely bursting at the seams with happy energy and there's no way Minseok is going to be able to contain himself for the rest of the day. He wiggles his phone out of his back pocket and calls Yifan.

"Please tell me you can take an early lunch," he says as soon as Yifan picks up the phone.

"Aren't you working?" Yifan asks, clearly distracted. "Or is this you wanting me to bring food _to_ you?"

"None of the above." Minseok sits up, picking at a seam that's coming loose on his bedspread. "I met him," Minseok nearly shouts in his excitement.

"It's a him!" Yifan exclaims.

"Yes! And his name is Jongin and he's _so hot_ ," Minseok ends with a hiss.

"So why aren't you with your new hottie?"

"He had to go to work," Minseok answers, sighing. "It's new release day so he has to be there, but we're going to meet up tomorrow night."

"That sounds promising."

Minseok can hear the smug, know-it-all tone in Yifan's voice and he promptly rolls his eyes. "Not like that," he chides. "Not everyone jumps into questionably kinky sex with their thread the same day they meet."

"No, I suppose you're not as ambitious as that. You should definitely forgo the restraints I know you have under your bed."

Minseok rubs his eyes, shaking his head. "You put those there. That doesn't count."

"They were a gift," Yifan asserts.

"They're hand-me-down bondage gear."

"Yixing wanted to upgrade," Yifan explains. "There was no point throwing them away when they could be of some use. Those harnesses weren't cheap."

"I'm never going to use them," Minseok tells him. "What I _would_ like is food and good company. If you can't provide this, I'll be borrowing your husband."

"Yixing is setting up for a showing, but if you wait half an hour, I can wrestle myself away for lunch."

"Downtown?"

"Sushi."

"Don't be late."

 

Minseok seldom wears anything with long sleeves to work. Even when it's freezing outside, he's comfortably warm in his coat, and he keeps the shop heated so there's no reason for anything that covers his arms. He needs the free range of movement, with no hindrance from fabric bending or bunching around his elbows, or threatening to fall down to his wrist while he's tattooing someone.

Because of this, his closet is bereft of long sleeved shirts of every kind. There was the one he'd worn during his interview with the bank to buy the building space, but that was years ago and he's not as scrawny as he used to be. Minseok thinks about going out to buy a nice shirt for his date with Jongin, but as the little persistent nagging in his ear reminds him - 

"He's your _soulmate_ ," Lu Han says over the speakers of Minseok's laptop.

It's times like these that Minseok questions his taste in friends _and_ why he ever allowed Lu Han to put skype on his laptop in the first place.

"He's not going to dump you because of your shirt. Just look at Yifan and Yixing! If Yixing can survive without burning everything in Yifan's closet to ashes, then Jongin can handle you in a t-shirt."

"One more comment about my wardrobe and I'm muting you," Yifan threatens from where he's seated on Minseok's bed. At least Yifan is trying to help. He's vetoed most of the shirts that Minseok owns, leaving Minseok with dwindling hopes. He's never been so nervous about a date before. This is supposed to be a guaranteed relationship, but Minseok considers it the farthest thing from one.

Jongin was skittish and nervous, openly admitting that he wasn’t wanting to rush into anything. Even if Jongin hadn’t said it, Minseok could have figured it out from his body language. It leaves Minseok worried that he’s going to do something to scare Jongin off and he’ll spend the rest of his life in regret. A bit drastic, yes, but Minseok’s been waiting for this for _so long_ that he’s not going to chance doing anything that could screw it up.

“Plain,” Lu Han suggests.

“You don’t think the one with the gold design on the back . . . ?” Yifan adds, plucking the shirt from Minseok’s hand.

“Minseok is naturally handsome. He doesn’t need window dressing,” Lu Han chides. “Just wear that blue polo I know you have stashed in there somewhere and a pair of nice slacks. _Not khaki_. And you’ll look great.”

“How do you know I have a blue polo?” Minseok never lets that shirt see the light of day.

Yifan snickers. “Lu Han’s the one who gifted it to you.”

“Oh,” Minseok remembers. “Must be why I never tossed it out.”

“I bought you that gift out of love!” Lu Han yells.

“You got it for free and stuck a tag on it with my name because your closet was full.” Minseok holds up two shirts he randomly picks from his closet. One is of an old band he’s not even sure he’s ever heard, and the other is a solid pink. He goes with the pink.

Both Lu Han and Yifan tell him not to, but he closes his laptop to shut Lu Han up and tells Yifan to get out of his apartment. He gets the door closed behind Yifan in time for Lu Han to blow up his phone with texts and probably more emojis than is healthy. Minseok’s really going to have to talk to him about that. No grown person should have a conversation that’s over 75% emoji.

Minseok doesn’t need anymore distractions. He’s feeling nervous as it is, his stomach reminding him that he’s about to take the first step in what could make or break the greatest romantic relationship he’s ever had. No pressure at all. Minseok takes one last look in the mirror, balling his hands to keep from messing with his hair - again.

He grabs his jacket and slides on his shoes, checking his phone to make sure Jongin isn’t one of the nearly dozen texts waiting for him. Minseok has been expecting Jongin to call it off all day, keeping his phone on him at all times even when he was at work. The only text he did get from Jongin was a confirmation for where they are meeting up. Minseok didn’t want to overstep his bounds and ask to pick Jongin up at his place, so they’re meeting outside the coffee shop instead.

Minseok drums his fingers on the steering wheel the entire drive, his radio turned down low and his eyes flicking to the mirror every now and again because he still thinks his hair could be better. “It’s just a casual meeting,” Minseok breathes, trying to calm his nerves. He steps out into the cold winter air and stares down at his pants, wondering if he made a mistake with the dark jeans. Maybe Lu Han had been right. Minseok should go home and change. He looks dumb.

“Minseok!”

Minseok looks up and sees Jongin on the other side of the street, all wrapped up in his coat and scarf. A wave of relief washes over him when he sees that Jongin’s wearing jeans too. Although, as Minseok jogs across the road to meet him, he notices that Jongin pulls off casual much better than Minseok does. Jongin’s cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair is blowing with the breeze and for a brief moment, Minseok can’t breathe.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Minseok begins, fingers curling in his coat pockets. Jongin is taller than he is. It’s something that he noticed before, but it didn’t really sink in until now. Minseok enjoys the view.

“No, just a few minutes. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t late.”

“That’s good.” Minseok turns to the left and points. “Our destination is that way.”

“We’re not driving?” Jongin asks, falling in step beside Minseok. “I was hoping to use you for your heater.”

Minseok glances over to see the hint of a pout on Jongin’s mouth and his heart skips the next beat. “It’s not a long walk,” Minseok laughs. “I promise.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where it is that we’re going,” Jongin says.

When Minseok looks at him, Jongin’s gaze is fixed on the sidewalk and his shoulders are hunched defensively. Minseok pauses, spinning on the balls of his feet enough to face him. “Hey, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. If you need time -”

“I don’t,” Jongin jumps in. “I don’t. Really.” Jongin scrunches his nose and finally looks up at Minseok. “I just don’t open up to people easily. I don’t mean to act cold.”

It’s obvious that Jongin is upset and Minseok feels like a heel. “It’s okay,” Minseok assures him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to. But for now, let’s get inside before my toes go numb, yeah?”

It cuts the tension enough for Jongin to smile and agree - the two of them continuing on their walk. It isn’t far to the book shop that Minseok has picked out for their evening. It’s two stories, a winding staircase that leads from the first floor and up to the second where there’s a small bakery tucked to the side. At first, Minseok had thought dinner would be a good idea, but it’s too late for dinner and he figures they can’t talk as much when they’re busy eating.

The gust of warm air that hits Minseok when he opens the door for Jongin is refreshing and the pair step inside, Minseok nearly barreling into Jongin because he’s stopped.

“Has this always been here?” Jongin asks, head tilted up to take in the high stacks filled with books.

“For a while,” Minseok answers. “A friend of mine brought me here a few years ago. It’s a great, comfortable place and they make an amazing cheesecake.” He moves around to stand at Jongin’s side. “And it’s usually quiet so we won’t have to talk over people.”

Jongin looks like he wants to say something, but refrains, stepping aside and letting Minseok lead the way toward the stairs. Minseok brushes by him, hoping he’d made the right choice as they climb up. It’s late enough in the evening that they mostly have the place to themselves. There’s clinking from the bakery and Minseok leads Jongin right to it.

There’s furniture - several mismatched couches and armchairs with small tables by them - off to the side by the windows. Minseok and Jongin take up one of the couches, a drink for each of them and a slice of cheesecake to share. There’s chocolate syrup dripping down the sides and Jongin reaches out to catch some of it on his spoon before licking it clean. Minseok might be feeling a bit dazed.

“I don’t have much experience with dating,” Jongin admits once he’s pulled his shining spoon from his mouth. “So I don’t know where to go from here.”

Minseok refrains from reaching out, deciding instead to shed his coat and rest it over the arm of the couch. “Well, we can start with getting to know each other,” he suggests. “My name is Kim Minseok, I’m 26 years old and I run a tattoo parlor. My favorite color is mint blue, I have an unhealthy addiction to coffee and I dislike the cold.” Minseok smiles at him, head tilted. “Your turn.”

Jongin laughs as he shrugs out of his coat, scarf unwound and set to the side. Minseok stirs his coffee, just plain this time, until the sugar is dissolved and takes a sip as he waits. Jongin turns to the side, a leg on the cushion as he regards Minseok thoughtfully.

“I’m Kim Jongin, 22, and I work in a comic shop.”

Minseok nearly chokes on his coffee. “The one a few doors down from me?” he asks.

“That’s the one,” Jongin answers sheepishly, picking at a thread along the seam of his jeans. “I don’t have _a_ favorite color, but I really like black and red. My favorite food is fried chicken and I really don’t like the cold either.”

Minseok beams at him, still surprised that they’ve been so close together all along. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he teases. “Working in a comic shop sounds fun.”

Jongin shrugs. “It is. It’s not a forever job, but I still don’t know what I want to do and I love comics, so it’s nice. For now.”

“Who says it’s not a forever job?” Minseok questions. “If it’s something you like, why leave?”

Jongin hunches in on himself and chews on his lip. “I don’t know. I mean, I like what I do, but I don’t see myself doing it forever. Does that make sense?”

Minseok nods, deciding not to push the subject any further. Jongin’s body language screams uncomfortable, so he switches things up. “What do you do for fun?”

Jongin seems to do better with this line, and he answers more enthusiastically, leaning in toward Minseok as he talks about his collection of action figures that he’s going to put up on shelves one day, how he enjoys spending his down time at work drawing short comics, and the enjoyment he gets from volunteering at the animal shelter. Jongin’s eyes light up when he talks about the puppies and how much he spoils them behind the workers’ backs.

Minseok only chimes in when Jongin is running out of steam, wanting to watch Jongin speak for longer. His entire being brightens with every word, his hands moving from their clasped position in his lap and into the air. He blossoms like a flower, even when his cheeks turn pink and he apologizes for doing all the talking.

“I don’t mind,” Minseok laughs. “I like hearing about you. And you can ask me anything you want on our next date.”

Jongin’s cheeks grow darker and Minseok is pleased with himself. His coffee is almost gone and he’s snuck a few bites of cheesecake, so he slides the rest over toward Jongin. “I have a question for you,” Minseok says after Jongin takes a bite. Minseok runs his finger through a line of chocolate on the plate and pops it in his mouth. “If you could choose any one thing in this shop to keep, what would it be?”

Jongin sits up, eyes darting over the bakery and to the books lined along the walls. “Anything?” he asks and Minseok gives him a nod. He takes his time, even standing and peering over the railing to see what there is downstairs. When Jongin walks off to take a closer look, Minseok stays put. He wants to give Jongin his space and not feel like he’s being pressured. So he waits, sipping down the last of his coffee.

When Jongin comes back up, there’s a large book tucked in his arms. He sets it down on the table and taps on the cover. It’s made to look old, a wrap around cover of cloth that ties around the sides. It’s a sketchbook.

“And what about you?” Jongin asks once he’s seated again. “If you could have anything in this shop. . . what would it be?”

“That’s easy,” Minseok answers with a sly smile. “You.”

Jongin blushes all the way to the tips of his ears and Minseok feels rather proud of himself. They linger in the shop long enough for Jongin to finish off the cheesecake before taking their leave. Minseok buys the sketchbook for Jongin and offers to drive him home.

Jongin hesitates. “I’m not . . . “

“It’s ok,” Minseok assures him. “Text me when you get home?”

Jongin agrees before thanking Minseok - again - for the sketchbook and turning to walk away. Minseok watches him until he’s out of sight, still smiling as he curls his fingers in his pockets to keep them warm.

 

“So how was it?” Chanyeol asks, his foot knocking against Minseok’s thigh.

Minseok looks up from the magazine he was paging through, narrowing his eyes at his employee. “How was what?”

“Your date,” Chanyeol says, pushing on Minseok’s leg now, shaking his entire body. “You can’t hold out on me.”

“Us,” Baekhyun amends. “No holding out on _us_.”

Minseok scoffs. “Who says I had a date?”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol have synchronized eye rolling down to an art and Minseok gets to watch it happen. “Please,” Baekhyun laughs. “You haven’t stopped grinning all morning. Even when that underage kid came in with a fake ID and tried to get his dick pierced, you didn’t stop smiling.”

Minseok raises his hand to his face and, sure enough, he’s smiling. “Can’t my relationship with Jongin just be between me and Jongin?” he sighs.

“No,” Chanyeol and Baekhyun chorus.

Minseok wrinkles his nose at them, going back to his magazine. Zitao hadn’t been nearly as intrusive when he’d stopped by earlier to check on his schedule for the week. Zitao is Minseok’s newest piercer, and Minseok’s lucky to have gotten his hooks into someone so talented for his little shop. Minseok likes Zitao; he doesn’t necessarily like Chanyeol and Baekhyun right now.

Minseok ignores them as best he can, knowing that soon, Taeyeon will be in and she can at least shut Baekhyun up for a while. Chanyeol, however, is a hopeless case. Chanyeol kicks Minseok’s leg again and Minseok glares at him until Chanyeol points to the window. When Minseok looks, he sees Jongin passing slowly. He’s bundled up, but the red thread around Minseok’s finger leads right to him and Minseok is smiling wider than before.

“Why don’t you go out? Baek and I got this.”

“Not yet,” Minseok says, watching as Jongin walks on by, pausing to peer inside. He’s not ready. Jongin sees Minseok and waves. Minseok waves back.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re going at _our_ pace,” Minseok tells him, hoping that Chanyeol will let it drop. Minseok glances at Baekhyun and his head is tilted, his lips turned down into a pout.

“He’s wearing too much,” Baekhyun sighs. “I don’t know if he has a nice butt or not.”

Minseok tosses his magazine at Baekhyun who ducks out of the way easily. “Eyes off my soulmate’s butt.”

 

Minseok waits a few days before texting Jongin. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s wanting Jongin to rush into anything, but Minseok wants to see him. He thinks three days is enough time to marinate in the first date afterglow. Now he’s hoping for a second date. The problem is that even after several hours, Minseok still doesn’t have a text back.

“Maybe you were too intense?” Yifan offers, his feet kicked up on Minseok’s coffee table. There’s a beer in Yifan’s hand and he tips it back as Minseok busies himself peeling the label off his own bottle. Yixing is in the kitchen and Minseok hears the hiss of a bottle being opened before Yixing is walking back in. When he sits, he does it mostly _on_ Yifan.

Minseok watches the way Yifan instinctively makes room for him, an arm around Yixing’s waist to make sure he doesn’t fall and Yixing tucked to his chest. It makes Minseok ache to have that kind of relationship and he runs his thumb around the red thread on his finger.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Yixing says, wiping the condensation from his beer on Yifan’s arm. “You should go see him. You said he works by you, so just pop in tomorrow and ask.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Minseok grumbles.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Yixing asks, peering at Minseok curiously. “If there’s a thread, it means you’re right for each other. And _he_ came to _you_. So that’s a good sign.”

Yifan opens his mouth and Yixing closes it for him. “Don’t speak. You’re making his anxiety worse,” Yixing commands. Minseok laughs into his drink. “Seriously, don’t over think it. There’s probably a reasonable explanation and you’re going to feel like an ass when you find out.”

Minseok figures Yixing is probably right. He usually is.

 

Minseok lingers outside the comic shop, staring up at the crazy colored _Adventurer’s Ink_ sign high above the doors. The windows are filled with standees - including one of Lu Han in spandex which is just disturbing - and action figures and so much art. Minseok wonders why he never even gave the place a second glance before. The artwork alone is enough to pique his interest.

He walks inside and lets the warm air take the chill from his fingers. The store is large, but every bit of the space is utilized, filled with boxes of comics, racks of the new releases, posters on the walls and shelves full of other merchandise. Minseok is amazed by it all.

“Can I help you?” comes a voice from the back. Minseok weaves himself toward it, his eyes darting around because this place is like a treasure trove even if he doesn’t know anything about the comic world. When he gets to one of the back tables, a head pops up and - “Oh, it’s you.”

It takes Minseok a moment to place the face - mostly because it wasn’t the guy’s _face_ he’d been staring at for an hour. “Sehun, right?” Minseok asks, almost laughing. This is the poor guy who was so enthusiastic about meeting Lu Han that he got his autograph tattooed on his ass. It’s not the oddest thing Minseok has permanently put on someone’s body, but it definitely makes the top ten list.

“Yeah, and you’re Minseok, Lu Han’s friend.”

‘How’s your tattoo?” Minseok inquires, mostly to tease him.

Sehun’s cheeks grow pink, but he doesn’t look one bit ashamed. “Great! It itched like crazy for a while, but I didn’t scratch and it’s mostly healed up now.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I assume you’re here for Jongin and not to check on my ass,” Sehun says with a smirk. “But he’s not here.”

“Do you know when he’ll be in?”

“Not today,” Sehun answers.

Minseok frowns, his stomach sinking. He’d been hoping for at least _something_. “Do you -” Minseok sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know if there’s a reason he wouldn’t respond to my texts? It’s been over a day now.”

Sehun snorts out a laugh before clearing his throat. “Jongin and technology aren’t compatible. He lets his phone die every other day almost. When I see him, I’ll let him know you’re worried.”

“So he’s not purposely ignoring me?” Minseok asks, just to be sure.

“Jongin’s too much of a bleeding heart to ignore anyone,” Sehun says. “And he definitely hasn’t said anything bad about you, so just give him time to figure out that his phone is dead and you’ll get a text or a call. Trust me.”

Minseok still keeps his phone close by, even when he goes back to work. It takes until almost sundown before Jongin’s number pops up on the screen just before it starts ringing.

“I am so sorry!” Jongin says in lieu of a greeting. “My phone died and I didn’t get your texts until now. Please don’t be upset.”

Minseok laughs. “It’s alright. Sehun told me it happens.”

“That’s good,” Jongin breathes, and Minseok might be smiling so hard it hurts. “And, um, yes, I’m free Friday night.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at the comic shop around 5?”

“Yeah, ok,” Jongin says. “I’ll be here. There. Um, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

Minseok laughs as he hangs up, sliding his phone into his pocket. Jongin’s just so adorable.

 

One of the benefits of having Yifan as a best friend is that Minseok has also become close with the person closest to Yifan - his husband, Yixing. Minseok and Yixing have always gotten along splendidly, although Minseok does lament the fact that Yixing has only punched Yifan in the face once. He’s convinced Yifan needed a few more to knock some sense into him. As far as Minseok is concerned, being Minseok’s friend and marrying Yixing are the two smartest things Yifan has ever done.

“Wow,” Jongin breathes, tugging his scarf off as he stares up at the domed ceiling, the lights hanging overhead.

Minseok can’t help but feel proud even if the building isn’t his. It’s Yixing’s. He runs an art gallery, trying to spotlight local artists to give them the right push into fame. And Yixing has allowed Minseok to use the gallery for the evening so he doesn’t have to deal with anyone else around while trying to get to know Jongin. It was a favor half out of Minseok’s mouth before Yixing laughed and waved him off, handing him the key and telling him to not make a mess of the current exhibit.

It’s partially a joke. When Yixing doesn’t have an artist on display, he puts up Yifan’s work as placeholders. And Yifan isn’t an artist by any stretch of the imagination. So the _art_ that’s on the walls is quite laughable at the moment. It’s more a shrine to Yifan’s stick animal figures and his attempts at drawing his husband.

“I hope you’re not too much of an art connoisseur,” Minseok jests, leaving Jongin by the door as he goes to the small panel to turn on the lights.

Jongin steps closer to the first piece before Minseok can make it to him. Minseok is sliding right up to his side when Jongin points at the painting. “This isn’t _yours_ , is it?” Jongin asks, looking for all he’s worth that he’s trying not to laugh.

“That,” Minseok begins, quirking an eyebrow at Jongin, “is the work of my dear friend Yifan. And he would be downright _offended_ at that smile on your face,” Minseok teases.

It’s so cute how Jongin tries to school his features into something more neutral, but he just looks incredulous, like a fish out of water. Minseok just grins at him, knocking lightly against his elbow. “I’m only kidding. Mostly. Yifan’s been told many times that he’s no artist and yet he insists. His husband just indulges him.”

“That’s sweet,” Jongin says, this fond look on his face as he stares at the horrible painting of what Minseok thinks is a stick duck on a pond. Only ducks don’t have four feet.

“Yixing has always been sweet,” Minseok sighs. He peers over at Jongin and nudges his arm. “Would you like to see the rest?”

They discard their coats and scarves by the door and Minseok’s eyes linger on the pull of Jongin’s cream sweater over his chest and how effortlessly handsome he looks when he sweeps the blond strands of hair from his face. It makes his heart ache just a little when a line of red cuts across his view before Jongin drops his hand to his side. Minseok takes a moment to lodge his heart back where it belongs before they begin their tour.

“Do you do anything like this?” Jongin inquires.

When Minseok glances over at him, Jongin’s gaze is dragging down Minseok’s tattooed arm. “Canvas like this?” Minseok begins, standing in front of the next in a series of what’s probably _all_ stick figures, “no. My canvas is the human body. It’s more gratifying.”

“Gratifying? My friend has Lu Han’s autograph tattooed on his ass,” Jongin snorts.

Minseok laughs. “No, that’s not art, but if it’s what he wanted, then I’m happy to make him happy. Besides, Lu Han’s face was priceless. It’s like he’d hit the jackpot of adoration.”

“I still can’t believe Sehun did that. Or that he passed out when he saw the red thread on Lu Han’s finger. I mean, _I_ freaked out a little, but Sehun hit the floor.”

Something clicks in Minseok’s head and he groans. So Jongin had decided to muster up the courage to come to Minseok and reveal that they were soulmates because of _Lu Han_. “Do me a favor?” Minseok asks, turning his pleading stare on Jongin. “Never _ever_ tell Lu Han that he’s the reason we finally got together. His ego is bloated enough and I don’t think I could handle him if he ever found out.”

“Not even two dates in and you’re already asking for favors?” Jongin teases, clucking his tongue.

“Just promise me,” Minseok laughs.

Jongin sighs, shoving his hands in his jean pockets and giving Minseok this _look_ that has Minseok wanting to drag him down and kiss him senseless. “I guess so,” Jongin says with a shrug, “since you asked so nicely.”

Minseok likes this - this playful banter. Even when Jongin keeps a safe distance from him, they laugh freely and the conversation isn’t as filled with awkward silence. This is how it’s supposed to be. Jongin even gets daring enough to ask Minseok if his tattoos mean anything. Minseok supposes it’s a fair question.

“It’s my tree of life,” Minseok tells him, pushing up the sleeve so Jongin can get a better look. “And every addition is someone important in my life.”

Jongin looks like he wants to reach out and touch, but he doesn’t. “There’s a lot of important someones,” he murmurs. “Doesn’t leave much space for anyone else.”

Minseok smiles at him, holding out his other arm. “That’s what this side is for,” he says. “It’s all for my future.”

 

For their third date, Minseok takes Jongin to a wine tasting. Yifan had suggested it and Minseok figured it was worth a shot. As it turns out, neither Minseok nor Jongin know anything about wine, but it doesn’t matter because Jongin’s laughter is infectious and Minseok thinks the cloudiness in his head is from Jongin and not the effects of a few sips of red wine. There are plenty of other couples around them, all of them murmuring to each other and Minseok nearly stops breathing when Jongin tilts his head down to speak in his ear.

Their fourth date is less adventurous, although no less special. It's not quite as cold outside, so Minseok takes Jongin on a walk through the park - he calls it a tour of the gardens even if none of the flowers are in bloom. He stuffs hot packs in Jongin's pockets and watches the way Jongin smiles when he thinks Minseok isn't looking.

Minseok still isn't sure where he stands with Jongin. Their dates have all gone well, but there's very little physical contact, and for each date, he picks Jongin up by the comic shop. He knows that Jongin is shy about the things most important to him and that he hunches his shoulders when he's feeling defensive. Minseok has learned that Jongin's eyes light up like the stars and his hands start moving in the air when he speaks about something he's passionate about. And he bashfully apologizes for it every time.

Minseok adores the moments when Jongin steps closer to him without thinking, and he ponders trying to take Jongin's hands, or at least letting their fingers brush against each other, but he doesn't want to startle Jongin away. All he wants is for Jongin to be comfortable, for Jongin to want this as much as he does. So until Jongin lets him know, Minseok is careful to not overstep the boundaries, even if everything in him is aching to do so.

Their fifth date takes them to Minseok's favorite restaurant. It's not so much the food that draws him in, but the atmosphere. Atop each table, over the tablecloth, is paper. And at every seat, beside the cutlery, is a package of crayons to draw. Minseok knew he wanted to bring Jongin here the moment Jongin chose a sketchbook on their first date. He just wanted to wait long enough so that Jongin wouldn't be too shy to draw in front of him. Minseok thinks they're finally there.

"Is this really for coloring?" Jongin asks, a childish smile on his face as he shakes the box of crayons.

Minseok is already opening his box, pulling out the blue. "Of course it is. It's great for killing time _and_ I might secretly want to see what you're made of," he teases.

Jongin and Minseok push everything on the table to the edge, getting comfortable in their seats before Minseok makes his first move. He draws a tic-tac-toe board. Jongin laughs - his face is unguarded and he's so beautiful that Minseok forgets to breathe.

"You secretly wanted to test my tic-tac-toe skills?" Jongin asks, wielding his green crayon like a sword.

"Exactly," Minseok decrees. "You must best me if you hope to win me."

Jongin narrows his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. "Alright, let's see what you've got."

In four out of five games, they tie. But the fifth one, Minseok slips up because he's too busy admiring the line of Jongin's jaw and Jongin is able to defeat him. "Does this mean you're my prize?" Jongin teases.

Minseok pretends to pout. "I thought I was already yours."

Their waiter chooses that moment to interrupt and Jongin leans back in his chair, teeth scraping over his lower lip as Minseok places their order. He's quiet when the waiter leaves, shaking his crayon box to find the color he's looking for. _Red_.

Minseok watches with interest as Jongin draws a tiny loop on his side of the paper, and then a bow on the top. His heart feels like it's being squeezed as Jongin then takes the tip of the crayon on a journey over the paper, swirls and curves and tangles, until it stops on Minseok's side. Jongin is bent over the table completely, focused on drawing a matching little loop with a bow on top in front of Minseok.

Minseok takes out a new crayon - purple this time - and slides his hand to one of the curves along the red line. He writes _drawing_ alongside it. Then he chooses another spot and writes _reading_.

_Sweets_.

_Sleep_.

_Music_.

Jongin colors around the words, bringing them to life as Minseok watches. This is something, Minseok thinks. These are things that they have in common, enough to make Minseok want more, and hopefully Jongin too. When their food arrives, Jongin is careful to make sure his plate doesn't sit on any of their work and Minseok does the same.

"Did you draw your tattoo?" Jongin asks partway through the meal.

"I did, although Baekhyun did the actual tattooing. He has the steadiest hands I've ever seen."

"So if I wanted to get a tattoo, would you recommend him to me?" Jongin inquires.

Minseok stares at him, eyes narrowed until the smile spreads over Jongin's lips. "Like I'd let anyone take that pleasure from me," Minseok huffs.

Jongin chuckles at that and Minseok is just a little more infatuated. By the end of their meal, he's come to a decision. He waits until they're in the car, driving back to the shop so Minseok can drop Jongin off. "I'd like to introduce you to my friends," Minseok says. "I think you'd really like them."

Jongin is looking at him, chewing his lip again. "Okay," he finally answers. He clears his throat and Minseok knows there's more he wants to say. "Um, if you want - you don't _have_ to - but you could drop me off at my apartment?" Jongin gets out in a rush.

Minseok could break out into a song he's so happy. "Yeah," he manages to say, hoping his voice is steadier than his heart. "Just let me know where I'm going."

His fingers curl tighter on the steering wheel and Minseok doesn't even try to fight down his smile. Progress.

 

***

 

Jongin is nervous.

Part of it is knowing that Minseok will be picking him up in a few minutes. Even after five dates, he still feels like there are butterflies tumbling around in his stomach when he's around Minseok. It's not getting any better. He thought they would have calmed down by now.

The other, far greater part, is that he's meeting Minseok's friends. Jongin's heard about them from Minseok's stories, but meeting them is entirely different. There are so many things that could go wrong. What if they don't like him? Minseok clearly loves his friends and if they don't like Jongin, would Minseok push him away?

Jongin chews nervously on his thumb, trying his best not to send a text to Minseok and cancel for the night. It's guilt that holds him back. Minseok had called him earlier in the week, excited because Lu Han was back in town, so he'd be able to meet him and Jongdae under better circumstances. It's not like Jongin doesn't _want_ to meet Minseok's friends. He knew going into a new relationship meant that friends come with the territory. But Jongin also knows his own inability to open up to new people and it makes him anxious.

And a lot nervous.

His phone pings with a new text - Minseok is downstairs in the car, waiting for him. Jongin's out of time. He stands, running his fingers through his hair before zipping up his coat and going out to meet him.

Minseok is looking exceptionally hot when Jongin slides into the passenger seat. Jongin always thinks Minseok looks hot, especially when Jongin can see his tattoo, but somehow, tonight, Minseok just appears . . . hotter. Jongin swallows down the thickness in his mouth, greeting Minseok with words instead of just lunging across the center console to kiss him.

They haven't progressed to kissing yet. They haven't even really held hands, and Jongin knows it's his fault. He's not good at expressing what he wants, and Minseok is respectable enough that he takes his cues from Jongin. It's both sweet and infuriating at once.

"You good?" Minseok asks, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel. Jongin watches the sway of the red thread on Minseok's finger as he nods.

"Yeah," he answers. "It'll be fun."

Fun is an open-ended definition sort of word. Upon meeting Minseok's friends - both bound by high school trials and the friendships forged through work - Jongin realizes that they are _all_ the fun, life of the party type.

Jongin sits in a booth at a small bar, surrounded by a group of people who are clearly comfortable around each other. Lu Han is across from Jongin, wedged furthest against the wall with Jongdae mostly in his lap as Jongdae tries to push the next round of shots out of Lu Han's reach. Lu Han had greeted Jongin with a wink that was followed by Jongdae rolling his eyes.

Jongin gladly downs the shot Minseok slides his direction, clinking the glass on Minseok's before they drink them together. There's liquor lingering on Minseok's lips that he licks away and Jongin knows he's staring at Minseok's mouth. But who could blame him? Minseok has such an attractive mouth.

On Minseok's other side, Yifan is busy gathering all the shot glasses together to stack them up for the waitress. Upon introductions, Jongin had found Yifan to be intimidating, but after seeing the way he fusses over Yixing, Jongin can see that Yifan only looks tough. Plus, Minseok had talked about Yifan being a giant ball of fluff before.

Jongin watches as Lu Han snakes an arm around Jongdae's waist and pulls him more onto his lap, scowling at the man beside Jongdae. Baekhyun doesn't seem put out about it, and neither does his wife. Taeyeon reaches over Baekhyun to knock her beer mug against Jongdae's with a laugh. Baekhyun just leans his head on her shoulder with a happy grin. The two of them make a striking pair.

A booming laugh draws Jongin's attention and he watches as Chanyeol hooks his arm around Zitao's neck and drags him in for a hug. There are chairs scattered by their booth, but none of them are currently in use. Chanyeol nearly falls onto one of them with Zitao in his arms, which only has them laughing harder.

There are so many brilliant personalities here that Jongin feels dull. He's never been the rowdy type, never been the life of the party and Minseok has surrounded himself with people who would _all_ breathe life into any situation. Jongin laughs with them, drinks with them and answers when they ask him about himself, but there's a disconnect. Even with Minseok pressed against his side, Jongin feels like there's a space between their worlds.

It brings all these questions to the surface. The loudest one being - is he enough for Minseok? Is there even room for him? He feels a little like he's suffocating and he's itching to get out. He's trapped in the corner - by his own choice - and now he's regretting that choice.

"Hey," Minseok calls, concern laced in his voice. "Are you alright?" His voice is low and he doesn't draw the attention of anyone else. Jongin appreciates that.

"I just need some air," Jongin says.

Minseok doesn't question. He just nods and turns to tell Yifan to move his bony butt so Jongin can get out. Minseok brushes against Jongin's side when they scoot out together and Jongin stands, giving Minseok as steady a smile as he can manage. "I'll just be a minute," he promises.

Jongin shoulders his way outside and into the cool air. It's really too cold to be out without his coat, but it's too late for that now. It's back in the booth. Jongin sighs, shoving his hand in his pockets and leaning against the wall, staring down at the sidewalk. How is he supposed to compete with all that? Fuck, how is he supposed to hold Minseok's interest?

Jongin knocks his head on the wall a few times, sighing into the night. He watches the way his breath puffs out in a cloud before disappearing. The red thread that ties him to Minseok is coiled loose on the sidewalk at his feet and Jongin swings his hand to watch it sway. What is he doing here?

“Hey,” comes Minseok’s voice, soft and low. Minseok reaches out, his fingers light on Jongin’s arm before they fall away. “I’m sorry if that was too much at once.”

“It isn’t,” Jongin reassures him. “It’s . . . just me.”

“Well,” Minseok begins, moving so he’s standing in front of Jongin, “ _just you_ is going to freeze out here. You want me to take you home?”

“No,” Jongin answers truthfully. He raises his hand, timid as he takes Minseok’s hand in his. He caresses the skin where the red thread sits looped around Minseok’s finger. Cautious or not, Jongin has already fallen hard for Minseok. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

Minseok shuffles closer to Jongin, peering up at him as he scrapes his teeth over his lower lip. Jongin watches him as his heart beats a little quicker, those pesky butterflies starting up a waltz that sends shivers down his spine. Minseok’s palm is warm when it cups Jongin’s cheek and Jongin lets out a soft gasp when Minseok’s hand slides back, fingers running through the strands of his hair. There’s a pause, a moment for Jongin to pull away if he wants, but he doesn’t want to. He’s too mesmerized by the promise in Minseok’s eyes, the heat of his touch.

Their first kiss, while not fireworks inducing, has Jongin’s toes curling in his shoes and a whine dying in the back of his throat. Minseok’s mouth is soft, his breath warm when it puffs over Jongin’s cheek. Jongin doesn’t want it to stop. He licks over Minseok’s lips the way he’d wanted to earlier and delights in the way Minseok presses forward, more urgent as he kisses him deeper. It’s a moment etched in time, a memory that Jongin will keep close to his heart.

It isn’t just about the physical contact, but the emotion that comes with it. Minseok makes Jongin feel things he’s never felt before and Jongin only wants more. The kiss is also reassuring. Jongin knows it’s silly to compare himself to Minseok’s friends, and now he’s not so anxious about not being the way they are. He’s just Jongin and Minseok has shown him that it’s alright. It’s what Jongin had needed the most.

Jongin is smiling when Minseok leans back, just barely breaking contact. Minseok is staring up at him with such fondness that Jongin’s heart quakes with it. It’s like a floodgate is opening inside him and the only reason Jongin doesn’t act on it is because he doesn’t know if he deserves it. Is he allowed to have so much after wanting to run from it?

Minseok slides his arm around Jongin's waist, gently pulling him from the wall. “Ready to go back inside?” Minseok asks, his fingers tightening.

Jongin can't help the way his heart lurches. “Yeah,” he answers. And he is. This time, with Minseok at his side, he doesn't feel less than he should be. He's right where he belongs. 

 

There is a line of superhero statues on the counter, each one dust free and ready to be put back on the shelf. But instead of storing them, Jongin is staring at them in their multi-colored, spandex suit glory. Jongin bends down, crossing his arms and using them as a pillow. “It’s not too soon, right?” Jongin asks them. “I mean, we’ve been on six dates _and_ we’re soulmates,” he further explains.

None of the statues answer him. Not like he expected them to, but Jongin’s been worrying himself sick over his upcoming date with Minseok and getting advice from someone nonjudgemental would be great. He’d called Kyungsoo yesterday, had curled up on his couch with his head in Kyungsoo’s lap as he admitted how much he _wanted_ to go to Minseok’s apartment for a movie night date, but also how nervous he was. Kyungsoo had slid his fingers through Jongin’s hair, all while telling him that he’s just fighting against something he clearly wants. Kyungsoo was right, but it doesn’t stop Jongin from worrying anyway. 

Jongin pokes at one of the statues just enough for it to wobble - much like his heart. “I don’t know why I’m asking you,” he grumbles. “You’re never lucky in love.” Captain Multiverse is cursed to find heartbreak in every dimension he stumbles across, which is impressive considering all the dimensions are at his fingertips. Jongin flicks the lip of the hero’s gold hat. “Maybe if you were dressed better,” Jongin sighs.

“As your friend,” Sehun’s voice materializes and Jongin startles, standing to see Sehun creeping up behind the statues, “I feel it’s my duty to tell you when you’re acting creepy. Talking to a Captain Multiverse statue qualifies as creepy.”

“I wasn’t expecting him to talk back,” Jongin grumbles, scrunching his nose as he begins putting the statues back on their shelf behind the front counter. When Jongin turns around, Sehun is leaning on the counter with a serious expression on his face.

“I can pretend to be a statue if you want to talk to me,” Sehun offers. “I won’t talk back if you don’t want me to.”

Jongin cracks a smile, putting up another statue. “I’m just nervous about my date tonight,” he confides with a shrug. Sehun is staring blankly at Jongin, unblinking and it’s kind of freaking Jongin out. “ _Stop that_ ,” he hisses with a laugh.

Sehun goes lax, resting his elbow on the glass and perching his head in his hand. “What’s so different about this date that makes you more nervous than usual?”

“It’s at Minseok’s apartment,” Jongin explains. “We’re having a movie dinner date.”

“Sounds cozy,” Sehun tells him with a knowing grin. “I don’t see the problem.”

“Me,” Jongin all but whines. “ _I’m_ the problem.”

Sehun rolls his eyes and reaches out, ruffling Jongin’s hair. “Just wear those white-washed skinny jeans. Your ass looks so amazing in those that he won’t be able to resist.” Jongin opens his mouth to protest, but Sehun cuts him off. “Trust me,” he says. “Even I have trouble keeping my hands off you when you wear those jeans.”

 

Jongin takes Sehun’s advice, not necessarily because he wants Minseok to get into his pants, but because he knows that Minseok wouldn’t go that far. Yet he still wants to look good enough to entice Minseok into more kissing. Maybe even cuddling or making out. Jongin’s not picky; he’ll take any of the above. When Minseok’s eyes drag over him, lingering around the denim pulled tight around Jongin’s thighs, Jongin thinks he’s about to get exactly what he wants.

It’s Jongin, however, who suffers. Minseok looks soft, with his hair tickling over his eyes and his faded blue shirt pulled tight enough around his biceps that Jongin’s imagination goes into absolute overdrive. He spaces out while they’re eating.

“You don’t like it,” Minseok comments.

Jongin blinks himself back to reality and stares across the small table at Minseok. “I do,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’m messing this up.”

Minseok smiles at him. “You’re not.”

“I am,” Jongin sighs.

“So talk to me,” Minseok says.

Jongin peers at him for a moment. “About what?”

“Anything.”

“My first kiss was in the seventh grade,” Jongin begins. “I can’t even remember her name. It was just some stupid game where we got locked in the closet together. We weren’t even supposed to kiss, but it just happened.”

Minseok looks amused. “My first kiss was Lu Han,” Minseok says with a scrunched look of disgust on his face. “He says he did it so I would always remember him,” he adds with a laugh. “This was back in high school. He kissed Yifan too. And probably half our class.”

“How did he manage to become famous?” Jongin asks, mostly rhetorically.

“That face of his,” Minseok sighs, shaking his head. “And a discovery that he had a voice to match. He was insufferable _before_ he became a celebrity. Now it’s all I can do to keep his head from floating into the clouds.”

“That sounds like a full time job.”

“It is. It’s Jongdae’s job now. I’m only part-time.” Minseok knocks his foot against Jongin’s under the table. “Come on, let’s put on a movie. My couch is a lot more comfortable than these chairs.”

The couch also offers Jongin the opportunity to sit closer to Minseok. At first he’s tense, hands clasped in his lap as a familiar movie plays out on the screen. Minseok had let him choose and he’d downloaded one of Jongin’s favorite superhero movies for them to watch. As lines he’s long memorized ring out in Minseok’s living room, Jongin slowly relaxes. Halfway through, he even has the courage to lean a little against Minseok.

Jongin is pleased when Minseok brushes fingers over the back of his hand and, after Jongin turns his hand palm up, laces their fingers together. Their clasped hands lay on Jongin’s thigh for the rest of the movie. It’s not the progress that Jongin had hoped for, but he can’t summon the courage to kiss Minseok himself.

This, though, is still really nice.

Jongin gets his kiss when Minseok drives him home. It’s a soft, lingering kiss left on Jongin’s lips and he can’t stop smiling until he falls asleep over an hour later.

 

It becomes a thing. Instead of going out in public, Jongin and Minseok keep their dates between only the two of them. Jongin spends several nights a week sitting on Minseok’s couch after having eaten something Minseok cooks for him. Sometimes they watch a movie. Sometimes they put on a show that’s already playing. It’s less about watching and more about the small talk that the movies and shows bring about.

The more Jongin learns about Minseok, the more he falls. There’s also the benefit of finally being comfortable around him. Jongin doesn’t get so tense after a few weeks of their date nights. He falls into a pattern that has him looking forward to the mornings where Minseok will stop by the comic shop with a new type of coffee in an attempt to find something Jongin likes. And during the evenings, he gets to leave his shoes at Minseok’s door and help him in the kitchen instead of watching uselessly and pilfering scraps while Minseok cooks.

It almost seems too easy. Jongin was so sure that it would be more difficult for his walls to fall and Minseok to invade; there was so much hesitation in the beginning, so much doubt, and Jongin feels silly for ever second guessing himself. Minseok may be surrounded by all these vibrant personalities that are nothing like Jongin, but when it’s just the two of them, the calming quiet is like an old friend.

Jongin still hasn’t talked himself into kissing Minseok first. He _wants_ to. It’s just a lot harder to _do_ than he thought. He’s never been outgoing, but he would give anything to have the confidence to take Minseok in his arms and kiss him without the voice in the back of his head telling him he shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to overstep his bounds.

Jongin sits next to Minseok, smiling as Minseok’s thumb rubs along his thigh because he has his legs draped over Minseok’s lap. They’d forgotten the movie a while ago and Jongin is enamored with Minseok’s laugh, his touch, the way he draws Jongin in without Jongin even realizing. Minseok kisses him gently, a palm cupping Jongin’s cheek. Jongin’s pulse throbs in his ears and he takes his time tasting Minseok’s mouth, pulling soft noises from them both until Minseok pulls away.

They go back to watching the movie and Jongin falls asleep before the end. When he wakes in the morning, he’s stretched out on Minseok’s couch with a pillow beneath his head and a comforter tucked around him. Jongin pushes his face to the pillow and lets out a noise of happiness. Minseok really is perfect - for Jongin at least.

 

***

 

Minseok finds himself watching, something akin to jealousy trickling into his fingers as Jongin cozies up to someone who is not him. He knows he has no reason to fear. Jongin has spoken fondly of his best friend Kyungsoo and of Kyungsoo’s husband, Joonmyun. Minseok understands that it must be a special person to earn Jongin’s trust and Minseok still hasn’t gotten completely there. To see Jongin to comfortable, so in his element with his head pillowed on Kyungsoo’s thighs while he laughs, has Minseok’s heart clenching with the desire to have that trust.

He knows that he’s made a step in the right direction because otherwise, he wouldn’t be here. Kyungsoo and Joonmyun’s home is welcoming and when Jongin had mentioned coming to meet his friends, Minseok had jumped at the chance. Now he’s here, learning more about Jongin than he thought he would. There’s a peacefulness to Jongin that Minseok memorizes, keeps tucked away so he will know when he’s made Jongin just as happy.

“Hey Jongin!” calls Joonmyun from the kitchen. “Can you help me?”

Jongin makes a show of grumbling as Kyungsoo rolls him onto the floor. He crawls a few feet before standing, brushing his hand over Minseok’s shoulder on the way to the kitchen. The moment Jongin is out of hearing range, Minseok turns his focus to Kyungsoo. He knows what’s coming.

“He seems happy with you,” Kyungsoo states, leaning back as he watches Minseok.

“I hope so,” Minseok answers. “I’ve been doing what I can.”

Kyungsoo tilts his head. “Are _you_ happy?”

Minseok is taken aback by the question, but the answer is obvious. He doesn’t even need a moment to think. “I am. Jongin is an amazing person and he makes me happy.”

Kyungsoo smiles at Minseok, some of that sternness fading from his posture. “Good. That’s reassuring. I’m actually surprised it took Jongin this long to bring you over,” Kyungsoo adds. “Despite how reserved he is, he’s spoken quite often of you and how much he likes you.”

Minseok is grinning, unable to help himself. Jongin walks back into the room, choosing to sit on the arm of the recliner by Minseok instead of taking up his spot on Kyungsoo’s lap. “What are you two talking about?”

“You,” Kyungsoo answers with a wink.

Jongin nudges Minseok in the arm with his elbow. “He didn’t pull that _you hurt him and I hurt you_ thing, did he?”

“Oh please,” Kyungsoo snorts, rolling his eyes. “Give me a little more credit than that. You’re a grown man. You don’t need a guard dog.”

Minseok slides an arm around to settle on Jongin’s hip, thumb brushing over the heavy fabric of Jongin’s sweater. He’s in red today. It’s a good color on him, although Minseok may be biased. So far, no color has looked anything less than perfect on Jongin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be protective?” Jongin questions with a pout. “I thought you cared.”

Kyungsoo bites back with, “I care about you finally getting laid.”

Jongin makes this noise in his throat. The two of them go back and forth as Minseok watches. During their conversation, he takes the opportunity to slowly pull Jongin toward him. By the time Joonmyun walks into the room, clad in a hideous sweater that looks like it was made from dryer lint - with a floral apron looped around his neck - Jongin is sitting in Minseok’s lap and even if Jongin doesn’t notice, Kyungsoo does.

He pats Minseok’s back on their way into the dining room to eat. “Nicely done. I like you.”

 

It’s a quiet morning. Or at least as quiet a morning can be with Chanyeol beatboxing loud enough to echo through the entire parlor. Zitao had come in earlier and promptly shut himself in the room he shares with Taeyeon to block him out. Minseok isn’t so fortunate. The piercing room is the only one with a proper door. The rest just have a curtain.

Chanyeol’s noise doesn’t dampen Minseok’s spirits. He’d stopped by the comic shop earlier, after Chanyeol had showed up, to take a drink to Jongin. He’s been cycling through the menu of the cafe nearby in the hopes that he’ll find something other than hot chocolate that Jongin likes. He’d actually been successful with the green tea latte he’d carried in. He’d gotten it for himself, but when Jongin’s face lit up, Minseok gave it to him. He’d gone down to the cafe for another one, but not without leaning over the counter to give Jongin a kiss first.

It wasn’t their first of the day. They don’t even use the pretense of a movie anymore. Sometimes Minseok still cooks, but they have food delivered sometimes, or Jongin shows up with a bag of takeout hanging from his fingers. It’s their time - time away from the world and outside influence. They talk and they laugh and sometimes they just sit in the quiet, hands clasped and stealing short kisses. It’s nice. Minseok thinks it’s nice, even if the thumping in his heart just wants more. He wants all of Jongin, but he won’t go over that line. Not until Jongin tells him he wants him to.

Jongin sleeps on Minseok’s couch; no matter how many times Minseok offers him the bed, volunteering to take the couch himself, Jongin insists he’s perfectly fine right where he is. The perks of Jongin sleeping over means that Minseok gets to see him first thing in the morning when his eyes won’t open all the way and his hair's a mess. Jongin is clingier, less hesitant about leaning his head on Minseok’s shoulder or rubbing his face along Minseok’s back as Minseok finds something for breakfast. Jongin always complains about how much he hates getting up in the morning, but he stays over at Minseok’s anyway, knowing that he has to get up earlier to go back to his apartment before work.

Slow and soft. Jongin is finding all the spaces in Minseok’s life that were empty and steadily filling them up with bits of himself. Like a fluff center that Minseok can take comfort in, Jongin is fast becoming the most important thing in Minseok’s life, and sometimes it’s frightening. He’s afraid of giving all of himself to Jongin and not getting the same in return. He understands Jongin’s desire to take it slow, but it doesn’t assuage his worries. Time is all he can give Jongin - time and his devotion to making them work.

Minseok is busy pondering this new recipe Jongdae texted him a link for - something that looks like it’s oozing chocolate - when the door chimes. He glances up, his jaw nearly dropping when he sees Jongin shuffling over to the counter, hands in his coat pockets and hair windblown into a cute mess.

Minseok was definitely not expecting to see him. After that first day when they’d met, Jongin’s never come inside the shop. Chanyeol whistles low under his breath and Minseok punches his thigh before standing. He walks around the counter, an arm around Jongin’s waist to pull him close. Jongin’s lips are cold when Minseok kisses him.

“This is a surprise,” Minseok says with a smile. “What brings you here?”

“Lunch,” Jongin tells him. “Did you want to get lunch with me?”

Minseok might be dreaming. There’s a dusting of pink in Jongin’s cheeks and hesitation in his eyes, as if he’s actually worried Minseok may say no. Even if Minseok had been the only one in the shop, he would have said yes solely because this is the first time Jongin’s asked him instead of the other way around.

“I’d love to,” Minseok replies, thumb brushing along Jongin’s jaw before he remembers that Chanyeol is still in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Chanyeol watching them. Intently. 

“I’ll hold down the fort,” Chanyeol says with a salute.

Minseok sighs at him, thanking him lowly before grabbing his coat. Jongin looks positively delighted when they get out of the shop and for the third time this afternoon, Jongin does something for the first time - he takes Minseok’s hand and links their fingers together. This might be the best day of Minseok’s life. So far.

 

There’s something different about Jongin tonight. He’s bolder, more open with what he wants and it’s driving Minseok crazy. He is definitely supportive of Jongin feeling comfortable enough around him to do as he pleases, but having Jongin _sitting on his lap_ with his thighs pressed tight to Minseok’s and his face so near is a temptation Minseok is straining to resist.

It had started out playfully enough, with Jongin joking that one day Minseok’s right arm would be tattooed enough to match the other one. The conversation turned to Minseok suggesting Jongin draw what Minseok should get done. What Minseok hadn’t anticipated was Jongin grabbing the crayon box full of fine tipped sharpies that Minseok keeps and then climbing on his lap to draw it directly on him. The sharpies are cool on his skin, contrasting with the heat of Jongin’s fingers as they move Minseok’s arm where he needs it to be.

Jongin’s been drawing for a while now, his full concentration on his creation; his bottom lip is in his teeth, his hair falling into his eyes as he works. Minseok’s attention, however, is riveted on Jongin and not what’s being drawn on his arm. Minseok’s free hand rests on Jongin’s waist, his thumb pushed beneath the fabric of Jongin’s sweater enough to stroke over skin. He expects Jongin to squirm away from it, but he doesn’t.

Minseok sweeps his gaze over Jongin’s mouth, over his nose and eyes, down to his jaw. He’s so achingly handsome, so warm and soft and incredible that Minseok is enamored. He’s never wanted someone as much as this. He knows that it’s to be expected; after all, there’s a magical red string that ties them together for a reason. His hand moves, slipping the rest of the way under Jongin’s sweater. His palm slides around to Jongin’s back, resting there and tightening just enough to bring Jongin a little closer.

The movement finally seems to break Jongin’s concentration. Jongin glances at Minseok for only a moment, but then he does a double take when he sees Minseok staring at him, his teeth releasing his lip as he lets out a soft noise. Jongin audibly swallows, but leans down after, licking over his lips as if they weren’t already wet and pink enough to be ordained the next wonder of the world.

There’s an intensity to the way Jongin kisses him, his lips parted as he licks into Minseok’s mouth with a low moan. None of their kisses have ever been like this. Jongin sweeps his fingers through Minseok’s hair, his other hand tight around Minseok’s wrist, the sharpie still locked in his grip. Minseok surges upward, tilting his head to kiss Jongin the way he deserves to be kissed. Minseok wants to see his eyes shining and his cheeks pink. He wants Jongin panting and trembling all because of him.

Jongin’s chest pushes against Minseok’s until he’s trapped between Jongin and the back of the couch. Jongin only pauses long enough to put down the sharpie, leaning in to capture Minseok’s lower lip in his teeth before kissing him again. Minseok cups Jongin’s cheek, fingers trailing over his features as Jongin whimpers softly.

There’s so much heat, so much anticipation building inside the room that it may catch fire. Minseok would burn in it if it meant never having to part with Jongin. He still doesn’t want to push too far, hesitant to go any further. This is enough for now. They have an entire life to do more.

A rumbling moan filters into Minseok’s mouth from Jongin’s and Minseok suddenly can’t breathe because Jongin is pressing too close. He acts on instinct, Jongin’s weight in his arms as Minseok raises just enough to lay Jongin on the couch. Jongin locks his thighs around Minseok’s, arms looping around Minseok’s neck to drag him down. Minseok’s hand slides further up Jongin’s side, skin to skin as Jongin’s sweater raises too. He can feel how hard Jongin’s heart is beating.

Minseok’s head is spinning when he finally pulls away. Jongin doesn’t let him get far, but they both need to breathe. And if Minseok wasn’t falling head over heels already, he would be now. Jongin looks positively delectable beneath him. His hands run up Minseok’s sides, heat bleeding through the fabric everywhere Jongin touches. When Jongin’s fingers graze over his nipple ring, Minseok sucks in a sharp breath and his body jerks away from the touch instinctively.

Jongin’s brow furrows, but then he sweeps his fingers over it again purposely and his eyes go wide. “You - ?”

“Just the one,” Minseok tells him.

Jongin’s groan is audible and he strokes his thumb over it, his eyes fixed on the spot beneath Minseok’s shirt. If Minseok had known how Jongin would have reacted to finding his piercing, he would have mentioned it earlier. Jongin can’t stop teasing around the area, pulling Minseok back down on top of him - kissing him.

For the first time, when Jongin spends the night, he sleeps in Minseok’s bed. They don’t do anything more than cuddle, with Minseok behind Jongin and an arm thrown over his waist. Jongin curls against him and falls asleep with puffy lips and a mark that Minseok had given him now blossoming on his shoulder.

 

***

 

Spring is a welcome friend. Jongin is pleased that he can walk outside without a heavy coat, trading in his sweater collection for t-shirts and a hoodie since the mornings are still a little chilly. It also means that when he’s out with Minseok, there are less layers between them. Now that Jongin isn’t afraid to take Minseok’s hand and lean against him, or even kiss him in public, it’s like a whole new world is opening up. It sounds so clichéd, even in his head, but Jongin has never felt this way about anyone before.

The first date they’ve had outside Minseok’s apartment in months is to the movies. Going to a theater for a date isn’t usually that special, but Minseok had brought Jongin to see the _Red Flare_ movie, knowing that he is one of Jongin’s favorite comic characters. It didn’t hurt that Minseok wanted to see Lu Han’s acting on the big screen. It was a little weird seeing a person he knows in real life - sort of - playing a character that Jongin’s gotten to know from comics. It took a while for Jongin to wrap his head around it.

“Now would you say _decent_ or _well done_ for Lu Han’s performance?” Minseok asks as they stand on the sidewalk outside the theater. “I’m texting Lu Han your opinion and it needs to be specific.”

Jongin laughs, standing behind Minseok and resting his chin on Minseok’s shoulder, arms around his waist. He stares down at Minseok’s phone screen and understands nothing. Minseok had commented once that Lu Han has a fixation with emojis, but this is downright abuse. “Be nice to him,” Jongin says. “Movies are never the same as their comic counterparts. There’s too much room for interpretation. His portrayal of Red Flare was acceptable for the material he was given.”

“I’m telling him you said _acceptable_. That’s gonna keep his panties ruffled for at least a week.” Minseok presses send and wiggles out of Jongin’s hold just enough to turn around. “You want to grab something to eat before work?”

They both have to be at work for the evening shift, having spent the morning and early afternoon with each other. It’d be nice to spend the time eating greasy burgers in Minseok’s car, but Jongin is stuffed. “I ate almost the entire large popcorn by myself,” he sighs. “I’m more than full. But we can get something to drink. I’m tired of the diet stuff someone keeps stocking in the back of the store.”

“Deal,” Minseok says, swinging their linked hands between them as they start walking back to the car. They stop for strawberry lemonade and Jongin lingers in the back of the tattoo parlor for a while. It’s a Sunday, so there aren’t many customers, which Jongin is thankful for when Minseok gets the chance to cage him against the wall and kiss him until he’s dizzy.

Jongin’s still grinning from ear to ear when he makes it to work. Some of that dizzying emotion turns to surprise when he finds Sehun in a back corner, hidden from sight, with Zitao pressed against him. Sehun’s hands are in Zitao’s back pockets and he makes the loudest noise. Jongin almost drops his drink.

“This is new,” Jongin finally says. At least that gets their attention.

Neither of them appear particularly abashed at having been found, although Sehun doesn’t meet Jongin’s eyes as he pulls his shirt back down. Jongin is mostly amused, especially when Sehun’s stare is fixed on Zitao’s butt when he walks away.

“I’ll see you at seven!” Zitao calls back with a wave.

“You bet your perfect ass you will,” Sehun breathes. Jongin probably isn’t supposed to hear that, but he does. And now he can’t unhear it no matter what he does. “Don’t look at me like that,” Sehun huffs. “Not everyone enjoys a life of celibacy.”

“First, my face was stuck on the reaction of finding you about to violate a public place. And second, I plan to relieve myself of the celibacy tag soon.”

Sehun pushes himself off the wall and rushes over to Jongin, taking Jongin’s free hand and holding it tight in his own. “Really?” He is far too excited for Jongin’s liking.

“You’re not allowed to be happier about this than I am,” Jongin grumbles. “This is _my_ Important Life Event.”

“And you’ve come to me for advice,” Sehun gets out in a rush.

“Not really.”

“You can’t rob me of this,” Sehun deadpans.

“What am I robbing you of? This is between me and Minseok!”

“And your best friend!” Sehun pouts, arms now folded across his chest.

“Kyungsoo is my best friend,” Jongin informs him without remorse - ignoring the frown that pulls down Sehun’s mouth. “You’re like, third on the list.”

“Who could possibly be second? You don’t know anyone else!”

“Joonmyun,” Jongin counters. While Kyungsoo would bow out of Jongin’s marathon movie weekends, Joonmyun was known to pop in from time to time and keep him company. It earned him a solid second when it comes to platonic soft spots in Jongin’s heart.

“Ok, fine,” Sehun huffs. “But out of the three of us, who would you feel most comfortable talking to about doing the frickle frackle with your super hot boyfriend?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, grinning as he walks up to the front of the shop to take his place by the counter. His drink is cold and his hand is wet from holding it for so long. He manages to find a napkin to put down on the counter before putting down the cup.

“He’s not here. You’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not stuck with anything. I don’t need advice.”

Sehun eyes Jongin warily, chewing his lip as he leans on the counter. “You’re oddly calm for someone about to jump in the sack for the first time. What gives?”

It’s really hard not to smile, so doesn’t Jongin try to stop it. It’s not that he’s not nervous, because he is. It’s just that it’s _Minseok_ and Jongin knows there’s nothing to be worried about. He trusts Minseok, wants Minseok, possibly loves Minseok, but that’s a matter he’ll contemplate more later. For now, all his focus is on this upcoming weekend. He’s more excited than anything.

Jongin finally realizes that Sehun is still staring at him, so he gives him a shrug. “It’s just - he’s Minseok. What’s there to worry about?”

 

Okay, so maybe Jongin had overestimated his confidence just a little. Worry doesn’t hit until he’s finished packing his overnight bag, planning to stay the entire weekend at Minseok’s apartment. He won’t have to come back home at all, and that’s both thrilling and weird. He’s never not come home; even when he’d spent the night at Minseok’s, he’d gone home later the next day to shower and shave and get himself ready for work. Not this time.

The thing about worrying is that by the time Jongin is at Minseok’s place, his shoes off and bag left in Minseok’s bedroom, most of that worry has melted away. The last of it drips from Jongin’s fingertips as he tips his head back on the couch cushion, Minseok’s mouth hot on his neck. Jongin groans, his hands digging into Minseok’s sides and his legs hiked around Minseok’s hips. It’s one of Jongin’s favorite places to be.

Minseok is always so careful about boundaries - no taking off clothes and only sliding his hands under Jongin’s shirt to touch his waist and lower back. He never goes any further and the words for more have always choked in Jongin’s throat. With the comfort of being trapped in Minseok’s arms, the words slip out so easily. “Please,” Jongin breathes into the air. “I want more,” he says. “I want you so much.”

Minseok stops moving and Jongin swallows down a whine. He’s already so warm, his blood pumping faster just from Minseok’s kisses. He sees Minseok hovering over him, looking at Jongin with such intensity that Jongin gets caught in it, unable to look away. “I’m going to need you to be more specific,” Minseok finally says.

Jongin’s gotten this far. He doesn’t plan on letting it slip from his grasp because of a little embarrassment. “Sex,” he answers. “With you.”

“That’s - that’s a _lot_ more,” Minseok whispers. “Jongin . . .”

Jongin cups Minseok’s face as he leans up, bringing him in for a kiss. He licks easily into Minseok’s mouth, holding tighter to him as Minseok slowly begins to relax against him. Jongin lets out a surprised moan when Minseok rocks his hips, softly at first, but then harder and with more insistence.

“ _Jongin, Jongin, Jongin_ ,” Minseok murmurs along his skin, trailing hot kisses down his neck and down to his chest. The collar of his shirt is tugged out of the way, Minseok’s teeth scraping and Jongin’s back arching off the couch cushions. There’s so much Jongin wants to do, to touch, and he doesn’t know where to start.

Minseok pulls away and Jongin gives chase. There’s a smile on Minseok’s face and he takes Jongin’s wrists in his hands. “I’m not stopping,” he tells Jongin. “Just pausing. We should move.”

Minseok’s point is made when he tries to sit up entirely and the two of them almost tumble off the couch and onto the floor. Jongin catches him around the waist and there’s a moment of silence before they both start laughing. Jongin can’t get enough of Minseok’s smile, or of Minseok himself. It’s so much more difficult to keep his hands to himself now that he’s gotten over his hesitation.

Minseok stands and hefts Jongin off the couch after, pausing to leave a burning kiss on Jongin’s mouth before leading him to the bedroom. His bed is made, pillows piled at the top and a second comforter folded at the bottom. Minseok smiles so sweetly, hands gentle on Jongin’s sides as he turns them around. And then he pushes; Jongin gasps, falling back on the bed with a bounce.

Minseok smiles wider. Jongin’s going to love this.

Jongin’s legs fall open when Minseok crawls over him, and he sits up to kiss him, before letting Minseok coax him back down onto the mattress. Minseok is the perfect weight on top of him, solid and warm and comforting. There’s only a slight trembling in his hands when he runs them beneath Minseok’s shirt, and it’s born of eagerness. He wants to see it all.

Minseok breaks away to let Jongin pull his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside after. He moves to lean in again, but Jongin has other plans. He pushes Minseok up, sitting with Minseok on his knees, hovering over him. Jongin is at the perfect level to see the ring of metal that runs through Minseok’s nipple. The sight of it makes him ache, his gut clenching and heat pooling deep inside him. Jongin runs his fingers up Minseok’s tattooed arm, light and teasing as he looks up at Minseok.

There’s a pink tint to Minseok’s cheeks and he’s still breathing hard as he watches. Jongin keeps his eyes fixed on Minseok’s when he leans in, dropping a kiss on Minseok’s ribs. Minseok shudders and Jongin can feel it, leaving his mouth on Minseok’s skin as he moves up. “Can I?” he asks when he makes it to Minseok’s pierced nipple.

“Gently,” Minseok tells him.

Jongin lets the metal run along along his lips, the smooth surface foreign and enticing. It’s as warm as Minseok, but Jongin wants to see if he can make it hotter. He covers Minseok’s nipple with his mouth, sucking lightly on it as he flicks the metal ring with his tongue. The moan Minseok lets out is loud and gruff. Minseok fists his fingers in the back of Jongin’s hair, not pulling him away, but gripping tight enough that Jongin can feel the tug on his scalp.

Jongin sucks a little harder, enjoying the way it feels in his mouth _and_ how much Minseok likes it. He could do this for hours, and his cock throbs at the thought of jerking Minseok off while sucking on his nipple. The idea is so tempting, but that’s not what Jongin wants most. That idea will be shelved for later.

The ring falls from Jongin’s mouth, shining and wet with a halo of pink skin behind it, and Minseok shivers. He tips Jongin’s head back and when Minseok kisses him, it’s greedy and desperate. Jongin feels the heat pulse in his veins, and he’s all too willing to let Minseok push him back onto the bed. Minseok’s lips travel down his neck as Minseok’s hands drag the fabric of Jongin’s shirt upward.

The shirt is left discarded, Minseok’s touch burning hot on Jongin’s bare chest. He’s not as defined as Minseok, but it doesn’t matter. Minseok kisses everywhere, teeth scraping over Jongin’s nipples as he goes. Jongin watches, eyes hooded and legs spreading further as Minseok leaves a mark just above Jongin’s left hip. He brushes his fingers over it afterwards, the red of their thread cutting along Jongin’s skin as the visual representation of the emotions that wind around them now.

Truthfully, Jongin had expected some kind of nervousness to set in. He expects some hesitation when Minseok hooks his fingers in the loops of his jeans and pulls them down, but there isn’t any. Jongin just wants more, kicking his pants away and bringing Minseok back to him. Impatiently. Minseok is grinning as he kisses Jongin, indulging Jongin in a few before leaning back on his heels again.

His palms rest on Jongin’s thighs, just below the fabric of his underwear. “You’re sure?” Minseok questions.

Jongin lets out a soft groan. “It’s really sweet that you’re asking,” he tells Minseok. “And very frustrating.” Jongin sits up, resting his chin on Minseok’s chest as he peers up at him. “If you want to stop-”

“No,” Minseok breathes. “I just -” Minseok shifts his legs to the outside of Jongin’s so he can sit on his lap. He cups Jongin’s face, leaning in until their noses are pushed together. “ _I just want you so much_ ,” he whispers. His words are hot on Jongin’s lips and Jongin drinks them down with a low moan. “I’ll make it so good for you,” Minseok promises.

Jongin had come prepared; he’d picked up several kinds of lube in different flavors, and a variety box of condoms just to be sure. Minseok looks at him incredulously before taking the bag from Jongin’s fingers so he can kiss him again - telling him how amazing he is. Jongin blushes at the compliments, easily distracted from the heat in his cheeks by the heat of Minseok’s body as he presses against him, naked and hard.

Minseok sucks Jongin’s tongue into his mouth, reaching between them and grasping Jongin’s cock in his fist in the same moment. A whine skitters up Jongin’s throat, left to die in Minseok’s mouth. Everything feels so good. Jongin’s well versed in his own body, in what it takes to get himself off, but Minseok is only just learning to play him now, and he’s doing a fantastic job of it.

“Are you ready?” Minseok asks after leaving one last kiss on Jongin’s swollen lips.

Jongin nods, afraid to use his voice. He’s already panting, already wrestling with his self control to keep from coming all over Minseok’s fist. He’s almost relieved when Minseok lets go. Jongin _should_ be paying attention to Minseok popping open the lube, and yet his attention is drawn to Minseok - Minseok and his firm thighs, defined stomach, and hard cock that now stands proud between his legs. Jongin’s never really had the base desire to put someone’s dick in his mouth before, but he wants to now.

Minseok is gentle, a palm on the inside of Jongin’s thigh and thumb moving in tingling circles as Minseok’s other hand works Jongin open. He starts slow, a finger pushing in as Jongin tries to rock down on it. He’s familiar with doing it to himself, but Minseok’s fingers are different, smaller. It’s almost surreal, having someone else touch him this way, having _Minseok_ coax these quiet noises out of him as he gradually slides two fingers into him and hooks them upward.

Jongin’s had many fantasies involving his first time - some more embarrassing than others. But the actual experience is nothing like any of them. Minseok is thorough, stretching him open until Jongin is breathless, pushing himself down on Minseok’s fingers as Minseok tells him how good he looks like this.

“Just for me,” Minseok croons. “All for me.”

Jongin watches as Minseok puts the condom on himself, wiping lube over it after. “How do you want it?” Minseok asks.

“I don’t care,” Jongin answers, “as long as I can see you.”

“I’m right here,” Minseok breathes, leaning over Jongin with such adoration on his handsome face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Stay like this,” Jongin whispers.

“Okay.” Minseok smiles at him, taking Jongin’s hand in his and linking their fingers. He pushes their hands to the bed above Jongin’s head.

Jongin kisses him again, addicted to the warmth and taste of Minseok’s mouth. He refuses to stop even when he feels the blunt tip of Minseok’s cock nudging against his rim. His legs just fall open further, an invitation, and Minseok eases inside gently. Jongin tenses for a moment, unable to move or even think as Minseok fills him up. Minseok keeps kissing him, moving over Jongin’s mouth and jaw, squeezing their linked hands until Jongin relaxes.

“Jongin?” Minseok asks, worry laced in his voice.

“Give me a minute,” Jongin responds, wiggling his hips just to get a good feel of Minseok’s cock deep inside him. “You feel so good,” he moans, clenching around Minseok’s cock now. “Want to remember this.”

A jolt of pure heat rushes through Jongin when Minseok steadily pulls out of him and then pushes back in. Minseok’s face is twisted in concentration, his focus on Jongin and his every reaction. It’s a little overwhelming.

“What?” Jongin finally asks, a soft groan lingering along the syllables as Minseok fills him again.

“Just memorizing,” Minseok answers with a teasing smile.

“It’s embarrassing,” Jongin admits in a whisper.

Minseok just smiles wider. “Is it?” He picks up the pace, his cock dragging out before he thrusts forward. Jongin clenches around him, a gasp spilling from his lips. He doesn’t even care that Minseok is staring at him because it feels too good.

Jongin is always aware of their clasped hands, of the way Minseok is so focused on making it perfect for Jongin. There are a thousand sweet words Jongin would etch along Minseok’s skin with his tongue if he could. He’s never been an eloquent man, but Minseok has him moaning poetry, stanzas dripping between them as Minseok takes Jongin to new heights.

Jongin’s thighs are slick with sweat and he lets out a noise of frustration when they keep slipping from Minseok’s hips. He just wants to be closer to him, to let Minseok know just how _fucking good_ he feels. Jongin already knows that Minseok is the only one for him - and he doesn’t need a red thread to prove it.

His hand grips Minseok’s hip, his ankles now locked and pressing against Minseok’s lower back to urge him to speed up. Jongin watches Minseok’s face as it goes slack, sweat beading along his brow, and eyes half-closed. He’s too greedy to loosen his hold on Minseok, but the way Minseok is grinding his cock into him is perfect. He slides his hand between them, fingers tight around his cock as Minseok’s hips rock against his over and over, faster and faster.

Jongin can feel the hot puffs of Minseok’s breath on his face, can sense the urgency in his movements and he matches the pace. Minseok kisses him, his lips scorching and wet. Jongin has trouble kissing back, the air caught in his lungs as he tugs harder on his cock, his muscles beginning to tense from the amount of pleasure dragging him under.

When Jongin comes, it’s with Minseok holding him together, their hands linked and Minseok’s hips working magic. Jongin strokes himself until he’s spent and a tear slides down his temple, and into his hair. He blinks his eyes, colors bursting along his eyelids. He opens them again to see Minseok above him, his jaw slack as he thrusts quicker, his hips stuttering when he finally comes.

Jongin feels so much at once, but most importantly, he feels it all for the man bound to him by a simple red thread. Minseok doesn’t move for a while, the both of them catching their breath - refusing to be parted. Minseok brings their linked hands back down, kissing each one of Jongin’s fingers before letting him go. Jongin runs his aching fingers through Minseok’s damp hair, grinning when Minseok tilts his head down to kiss him.

“How do you feel?” Minseok asks him. His voice is soft, raspy. Jongin really likes it.

“Tingly,” Jongin answers. “And perfect.”

“Perfect,” Minseok repeats with a soft laugh. “Me too.” He drops a kiss on the corner of Jongin’s mouth. “I’m going to get a towel before we make a mess.” Minseok carefully sits up, pausing to stare down at Jongin before he pulls out. Jongin inhales sharply, clenching around nothing and feeling a sense of emptiness now that Minseok isn’t filling him up.

After wiping up the mess, Minseok offers to run a shower for the both of them, and Jongin is all too happy to accept. Minseok helps wash him and Jongin returns the favor, paying special attention to Minseok’s nipple ring. Minseok flicks water in Jongin’s face for being so obvious about it and Jongin pulls Minseok under the spray with him, kissing his protests away.

For Jongin, it’s as if a whole new palette of colors has opened up to him. The world isn’t painted in red and yellow and blue anymore, but is awash in shades of crimson and honeydew and cerulean. There are shades he’s never seen before, as if Minseok has unlocked this place inside of him that only he had the key to. Jongin finds himself swimming in a sea of emotion, balanced on the surface by a Minseok-shaped boat.

Even as they fall asleep together, with clean sheets on the bed and Minseok’s arms wrapped around Jongin from behind, Jongin feels different. New. _Alive_. His eyes slip closed and he relaxes in Minseok’s embrace, finally understanding what it means to be with someone meant for him.

“I love you,” Minseok whispers behind him, his lips skimming the skin of Jongin’s neck.

Jongin doesn’t answer, afraid that it might have been a dream because he’s already so close to sleep. It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not going anywhere.

 

***

 

There was a time when Minseok would observe Jongin, watching as his entire being blossomed as he talked about things he was passionate about. Minseok used to get the slightest twinge of jealousy over the most ridiculous things - comic characters, dancing, fried chicken. But now . . . now Minseok stands in the doorway of his kitchen, looking into his living room as Jongin talks to Sehun - about _him_. Jongin's talking about Minseok and there’s that same look on his face. Because Minseok has become someone Jongin is passionate about. After his slip up a week ago when he’d been too out of it to keep the words in, Minseok had been afraid that Jongin had heard him and would pull away. His fear was unfounded and his chest fills with so much passion of his own as he watches the man he loves from across the room.

The gathering was Zitao’s idea. He wanted to introduce Sehun to everyone, and it also gave Jongin an opportunity to get to know Minseok’s friends better. Minseok had taken the idea and gone a step further. Kyungsoo and Joonmyun are here too, along with Zitao and Sehun, Yifan and Yixing, Lu Han and Jongdae, and Chanyeol. Baekhyun and Taeyeon are at the shop, probably having a party of their own; there’s no other reason they would have volunteered.

It’s just as well. Lu Han still isn’t over his grudge and Baekhyun would have only made it worse - on purpose. As it is, Lu Han can’t keep his hands off Jongdae and Jongdae appears pleased about it, but only when Lu Han isn’t looking. Yifan and Joonmyun have hit it off, probably sharing fashion disaster tips while Kyungsoo and Yixing stare on woefully, giving each other pained looks. It’s a nice mix though. Comfortable.

With Minseok and Jongin getting together, their circle of friends has expanded, their lives beginning to blend and weave together. It gives Minseok a sense of relief. He’d been afraid that even after finding what he’d been searching for his entire life, that it still wouldn’t feel like enough. But Jongin has filled in all the blanks, molding himself into the missing pieces that Minseok had kept hidden.

Minseok is happier now. He wasn’t unhappy with his life before, but there’s a noticeable difference and it's a good one. Even now, as he’s heading into the kitchen to place the stack of plates by the sink, he’s smiling. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Smiling. For no reason other than just thinking about Jongin.

He absentmindedly begins rinsing the plates one by one with the gentle sound of laughter and conversation in the background. It’s so comforting. So calming. So . . . _domestic_. It feels right.

What also feels right is the weight of Jongin suddenly leaning against his back, chin hooked over Minseok’s shoulder and arms around his waist. “You’re missing the fun,” Jongin rumbles against his neck, punctuating his words with a kiss.

“And what fun is that? Jongdae purposely bending over in front of Lu Han or Joonmyun complimenting the ugliest tie I’ve ever seen Yifan wear?”

“Both,” Jongin answers with a laugh.

Minseok can feel the vibration of his laugh through his back and he sinks into it. It would be the perfect moment to say it again. Minseok’s been thinking about it a lot. Saying it while Jongin was asleep was cheating. He wants to do it right; he wants to see the look on Jongin’s face when those words slip past his lips.

Minseok turns off the water and turns around, plates left abandoned. Jongin allows him just enough space to move before his arms are tight around him again. Jongin is so radiant, so handsome as he stares down at Minseok. He’d gotten his roots bleached to match the rest of his hair a few days ago after Minseok had made an offhand comment about how hot it looked with the tone of his skin. The strands are still a little frizzy, but Jongin is no less perfect.

Minseok raises a hand, thumb trailing over Jongin’s bottom lip. Jongin licks over his lip after and Minseok raises his toes to kiss him. It’s easy to forget that they have people over, that they’re not alone, when Jongin is molded along his front and his hands are sliding into Minseok’s back pockets to pull him in further. Minseok licks through Jongin’s lips with ease, groaning when he’s pushed against the counter roughly, one of Jongin’s thighs wedged between his.

Ever since their first time, it’s like they can’t get enough of each other. Where once Jongin had been reticent and cautious, he’s now reckless and needy, telling Minseok exactly what he wants. This bold Jongin that Minseok has unlocked will soon drive him mad with want.

Minseok slides his fingers into Jongin’s hair, curling them in the strands and holding Jongin just where he wants him. Jongin’s moan is soft, and just for Minseok. They rock together, Jongin now running his hands up the back of Minseok’s shirt. His nails scrape just enough to have Minseok arching against him, and _fuck he wants to get Jongin naked_. He doesn’t even care that they’re in the kitchen.

“That’s adorable,” comes Yifan’s voice.

Minseok gasps and pulls away to see Yifan and Lu Han standing in the doorway with twin looks of mischief on their stupid faces.

“Do you remember when we were this young and in new love?” Lu Han coos.

“You fall in love with yourself every day,” comes Jongdae’s voice from behind them. He wedges himself between Yifan and Lu Han, scrunching his nose at Lu Han when he passes. “Let them have their moment.”

Jongin leans his forehead on Minseok’s shoulder with a sigh. “Sorry,” Jongin whispers.

Minseok watches as people begin moving between the rooms in search of more food and drinks. “Later,” Minseok promises, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down Jongin’s spine. “Later.”

 

Jongin looks amazing from this angle. His hair is mussed from Minseok’s fingers, his lips kiss swollen and slick and his cheeks pink from exertion. Minseok burns the image into his mind, his thighs flexing as he lifts off Jongin’s cock before sinking down again, rocking his hips. Jongin’s fingers tighten on his waist and a low moan filters between them.

It had started heated, the two of them stumbling around with their hands all over each other as soon as their last guest had left. Jongin had landed on the couch and Minseok had climbed on top of him with intent. Their clothes still mostly on, Lu Han’s _gag gift_ of a bottle of lube left on the coffee table was proving useful. Jongin’s jeans are pushed halfway down his thighs, his shirt tucked around his ribs.

Minseok rides him faster, trails of sweat trickling down his back before his shirt soaks them up. It’s too hot. Minseok pauses, clenching around Jongin’s cock as he frantically peels his shirt off over his head. Jongin helps him, sort of. The collar of the shirt hooks on Minseok’s nose and Minseok nearly tips forward too far when he feels Jongin’s mouth hot and greedy over his nipple.

He’s never met anyone so fascinated and turned on by his piercing before. None of his previous lovers had given it much attention, but Jongin - Jongin always finds a reason to fit his mouth around it. And Minseok is so sensitive that he _aches_ every time it happens. He wrestles to get his shirt the rest of the way off, looking down to see Jongin’s lips around his nipple.

Minseok’s cock throbs and he rocks on Jongin’s lap harder, hand in Jongin’s hair and the other on the back of the couch for support. He could do this for hours and Jongin would probably let him. He thinks about it for a moment until his next move rubs his knees uncomfortably over the fabric of the couch. Maybe another time.

Minseok jerks, head tipping back and eyes closing at the sensations that follow Jongin’s hand around his cock. His thumb slides over the crown, slippery, before he strokes down, then up slowly. His thighs start trembling, hips jerking forward to grind on Jongin’s cock as he comes over Jongin’s fingers.

Jongin makes this gruff noise, teeth tugging lightly on his nipple ring before he releases it, leaning back as Minseok keeps grinding. It doesn’t take long for Jongin to still, his cock pulsing inside Minseok as he comes. It’s going to be messy; they didn’t use a condom this time. It’s not something Minseok wants to think about yet. It’s hot and sticky and they’re going to be itchy soon, but Jongin is nuzzling against him and Minseok can’t resist. He doesn’t _want_ to resist.

Minseok thinks about saying it now. But he doesn’t think it would have the full effect. He doesn’t want Jongin to think he said it because of some post-orgasmic afterglow. When he tells Jongin, he needs Jongin to know he means it. Completely.

 

Jongin has become an almost permanent fixture in Minseok’s apartment, and Minseok isn’t going to complain about it. He enjoys the companionship and the way Jongin likes to keep close. He’s like Minseok’s own quilt, always draped over him in some way - warm and soft and wonderful. Minseok is definitely getting used to it. On the rare nights that Jongin does go home, he doesn’t sleep very well.

Even his morning routine has become about including Jongin. It’s just not right when Jongin isn’t scrunching his nose after stealing a kiss when Minseok has coffee breath, or Jongin trying to pull Minseok back into bed every time he gets near it.

Last night, Jongin was over at Kyungsoo and Joonmyun’s place for dinner and he’d gone back to his own place after. Minseok had had an appointment that took far longer than he’d anticipated. He didn’t even make it home until half past midnight. It would have been selfish to ask Jongin to wait for him, and now Minseok’s eyes are aching from lack of sleep and he’s grumpy even after his first cup of coffee.

Somehow, it’s not a surprise to walk into the living room and find Jongin’s cell phone sitting on the side table, still plugged into the charger. Nor is it surprising to see the stack of sketchbooks on the floor under the table - each one devoted to a different idea Jongin had started working on. He’s been talking Minseok’s ears off about comic ideas and all these characters he’s creating and Minseok is so proud of him.

There are pieces of Jongin spread all throughout Minseok’s apartment, his presence felt even when he’s not here. Minseok likes it. He’s never been one for clutter, but with Jongin, it just fits.

A frantic knock at the door has Minseok putting his mug on a coaster, safely in the center of the coffee table. He runs his fingers through his hair before opening to door, already aware that it’s Jongin on the other side.

“Forget something?” Minseok teases with a smile.

Jongin gets this adorable pout on his face before it’s gone, and he’s crowding against Minseok to kiss him. When Jongin pulls back, his nose is scrunched. Minseok laughs.

Jongin leaves his shoes at the door and heads right for his phone, checking for notifications. Minseok takes his place on the couch again, far more content now that Jongin is here. It isn’t long before Jongin is sitting with him, his back to the arm and legs folded as he stares at Minseok. It’s obvious that there’s something he wants to say, but Minseok doesn’t press. Jongin does things in his own time.

“Do you remember when we met?” Jongin opens.

Minseok looks at him like he’s crazy. “How could I ever forget?”

Jongin shakes his head. “Not that, but the first time we talked?”

“Of course.” Minseok shifts to face Jongin now, watching him carefully.

“So that whole thing that I said about going slow?” Jongin licks his lips and Minseok’s heart is already thumping harder. “I’m over it.” Jongin stares right at Minseok. “I don’t want slow anymore.”

“I love you,” Minseok declares. Screw perfect timing. Every moment with Jongin is perfect.

Jongin reaches out and drags Minseok into his lap, hands warm through Minseok’s cotton pants. “I love you, too,” he murmurs.

Minseok kisses him, his heart ready to leap out of his chest to do a victory lap. He rests his palm on the back of Jongin’s neck, thumb caressing over skin as their kiss slowly breaks. Jongin hums softly, smiling so beautifully that Minseok could cry. “Move in with me.”

Jongin barks out a laugh. “You’re pulling out all the stops now.”

“Is that a yes?” Minseok asks hopefully.

Jongin kisses him again. “That’s a yes.”

Relief floods Minseok even as Jongin rocks forward to press him on the couch. Neither of them have long before they need to get ready for work, but Minseok doesn’t care. Jongin leaves sweet kisses on his mouth and neck, his fingers wandering beneath Minseok’s shirt and, yeah, okay, Minseok can afford to be a little late. Chanyeol can open up on his own. It’s only a Tuesday.

 

“Are you _really_ sure you want to do this?” Minseok asks. He always asks his customers if they’re completely positive they want something tattooed on their body forever. He’s had a rare few that had paused and decided not to after all, but most are one hundred percent. Jongin is one of those people who don’t hesitate after making up their mind.

It’s so surreal having Jongin sitting in the chair in the small room, shirt sleeve rolled up and a _get on with it_ look on his face. “I’m sure. Stop stalling.”

Minseok has everything set up already; the only thing he has to do it actually _tattoo_ Jongin. He takes Jongin’s hand and stares down at the red thread looped neatly around his finger - the finger he’s about to tattoo. He sighs and glances up at Jongin again. “You know this is clichéd and cheesy, right?”

“Minseok,” Jongin huffs. “If you don’t do it, I’ll just have to go to Baekhyun. I hear he has the best hands around.”

Minseok inhales sharply. “No one is allowed to tattoo you except me,” Minseok nearly growls. From behind the curtain closing off the room, several snickers give away their audience.

“Well then,” Jongin prods. “Get on with it.”

Minseok gives Jongin one last pleading look before starting. Over the buzz of the machine, Jongin keeps talking. “Yifan called me last night,” he starts.

“Yeah?” Minseok asks, a little distracted with the starting lines that he tries to trace over the actual red thread.

“He wants to plan our wedding.”

Minseok stops and stares up at Jongin in horror. “Never.”

Jongin laughs and Minseok falls in love all over again.

“Oh, and how long would you have to stay away from my dick if I got it pierced? I think Zitao said 8 weeks, but I can’t remember exactly.”

Minseok’s mind floods with all the things he _shouldn’t_ be thinking about while _tattooing his soulmate_. “Jongin, you have to stop. I’m trying to concentrate,” he croaks. He pauses, head hanging as he controls his breathing.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Jongin promises, a sly expression on his handsome face.

Minseok is really so very much in love. It’s going to kill him, but if Jongin is the cause, it’ll be totally worth it.


End file.
